


Through the Window

by Whisperyourscreams



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Avengers Endgame, Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Developing Relationship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Peterxmj - Freeform, Spider-Man - Freeform, Spideychelle, Young Love, post Endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-04-23 19:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19157605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisperyourscreams/pseuds/Whisperyourscreams
Summary: Spoilers for Endgame.When Peter needs to calm down or remember the good in the world, he turns to Michelle "Mj" Jones. The two strike up a deal in an attempt to sleep through the night uninterrupted but they didn’t count on feelings getting in the way.Also posted on Wattpad.





	1. In the Night

     The grief comes in waves. One minute everything is okay and things feel almost normal then the next, he's struggling to breathe as the weight of it crushes his chest and tears pour out. Peter pulls his Spider-Man mask off and sucks in the night air, gasping with each throb behind his ribs. Perched above his neighborhood, he tries to fight off the overwhelming sense of loss, of failure but it claws its way up from inside him.

     It twists through him, twines around his spine and his knees buckle. Nobody prepares you for loss, nothing can make you understand until it's happening and Peter has seen enough to last him a lifetime. This hurts, it leaves him exposed and feeling raw. He doesn't know how to control it but he knows there's someone he can talk to.

     It's the middle of the night, close to two in the morning and he knows he can't just head home and lay in bed. He's not tired. That's a lie. He's exhausted, bone deep but he hasn't been sleeping and he won't now. Not with the lump choking him or the ache tearing his chest to shreds.

     He's no help to anyone like this. That's all he can think about when he swings from building to building. He isn't helping, he's panicking. Grief weighs down on him like a boulder and by the time he's in the right area, he has no idea what he's doing. It's late.

     Peter knows he shouldn't but he does it anyway. He finds the familiar window, the one with the dark curtains pulled tight. This isn't the first time he's come here but it's the first time he plans to knock. He's watched before from the building across the street in a totally non-creepy way. He just finds comfort in seeing her, watching Michelle calms him when he's having a rough night. It's stalker behavior if he really thinks about it, so he tries not to.

     This isn't just a rough night, this is...something that he can't handle on his own. He can't go to Ned for this. He's never bothered her before. It's the first time he plans to spill his secret and seek comfort. He shouldn't. Mr. Stark would tell him not to. That's exactly why he pulls the mask off once again and taps against the glass. Not quite how he planned to tell MJ that he's Spider-Man.

     Seconds tick by and he taps again, a little louder but hoping he doesn't wake anyone else. He hears a thump, a muttered curse and the ache he's feeling eases just enough for him to take in a steady breath. He taps on the window one more time, just in case he woke her and she's confused about what pulled her away from sleep. Peter waits till there's footsteps and pushes himself away from the glass so she isn't greeted with a creeper close-up of his face against her window.

     The curtains move and he braces himself. It's dark, but there's a soft glow illuminating her features and his lungs expand slowly. He has no clue why seeing her soothes him so much. She startles a bit, jumping back before leaning closer. Peter waves, hoping she opens the window so he doesn't have to keep hanging around. Her head tilts to the side, eyes narrowing and her arms cross over her chest. The knot in his throat swells and he almost chokes on it.

    _Please, MJ._ After a minute, maybe two, she lifts the window.

     "Peter, what the hell are-" He bites his trembling lip, trying to focus on maintaining control and she notices. Of course she does. "Get in here. Before I change my mind."

     He climbs through the window and into her bedroom, expecting shock or surprise or something but the girl in front of him just shakes her head.

     "I knew it." Michelle whispers.

     "What?" He doesn't even try to hide the way his voice cracks, she can see the grief in his burning and tear filled eyes so what's the damn point?

     "The suit. Jesus, Parker, you look like hell and it's two in the morning." It hits him like a punch in the gut, he's in a girl's room. At night. This is MJ and she's sleep disheveled, adorable and tired. He shouldn't have woke her. "Okay, hey, uh I'm not really good with this stuff but you look like you need to sit."

     "I'm s-sorry. I shouldn't have come."

     "Sit down or I'll make you." He hesitates long enough she grabs his wrist and drags him to the bed in the corner of the small room.

     It takes him a second to realize she's suddenly pushing his chest but his knees give out and he sinks down onto the mattress. It's soft. It's weird to notice it right now but he does. When MJ sits next to him, she turns to face him, back against the headboard and pulls her legs up to sit criss-cross, Peter finally gives himself permission to take her in.

     The crop top, the sweat pants, the mess of wild curls and how her eyes are puffy. The heat of her knee so close to his thigh makes him want her as a distraction. The lamp in her room gives off just enough light to see but leaves it dim enough to have him feeling nervous. The nervous that comes with being in a girl's room for the first time, of feeling her body heat so close, and being in romantic lighting.

     He really didn't think this through. On top of dealing with the damn lump in his throat that keeps trying to cut off his air supply, he's now got sweaty palms and tries to look anywhere but at her. He settles on staring straight ahead, at a shelf covered in books. It doesn't work out though, his gaze has a mind of its own tonight and it's back on her in seconds.

     Michelle rakes a hand through her hair and Peter closes his eyes to collect himself. She's too pretty but just being with her is helping. It's calming the raging storm of grief.

     "Why are you here?" Of all the questions that could leave her lips, he didn't expect this one. He should have, it's the most obvious.

     "I don't know." He looks at her again and it hits him that he doesn't. He has no reason to be here. He's not even sure how he ended up in her bedroom or why he thought this was a good idea.

     "You show up in the middle of the night, while you're out being boy hero and you look like crap. What's going on?"

     "MJ, I just-" He misses the man he looked up to. He misses life from before the Snap. He longs for normal, for being a dumb teenager. He just wants to feel something else. "We're friends, right?"

     "I'm in my pajamas and you're sitting on my bed. We're friends."

     "You knew I'm Spider-Man?" She shrugs a shoulder but her face remains unreadable. "I just...couldn't go home."

     "So you show up outside my window, creeper style, in spandex at two in the morning?"

      "I'm sorry, I'll go." He shifts to stand but she extends one of her legs, placing it in his lap to keep him there.

     "You're not going anywhere. I was just teasing." If she notices the intimacy of her leg right over his thighs, she says nothing about it. However, she doesn't pull it back either. "Talk to me."

     Sitting in MJ's bedroom with the warm weight of her leg across his lap and her tired eyes filling with sympathy, he gives in and lets it out. He tells her the things he hasn't been able to tell anyone. He whispers the secrets he's kept, even the ones he kept from Ned and swipes at his cheek when a tear falls. Somehow he ends up touching her, his palms resting on her knee and shin.

     She doesn't kill him or tell him to stop. She's just listening, letting him vent. Michelle is quiet but present in a way that soothes. When his chest aches a little less, he stops talking. Maybe he shouldn't have come so late or completely unannounced but he feels better than he has in days. He spilled everything and the breath he takes in feels lighter, easier. It doesn't hurt as much.

     "It's really late...I should let you get back to sleep."

     "I wasn't actually sleeping." She reaches over to the blanket that's been tossed aside and fishes a book out from beneath it. Suddenly the lamp being on makes sense and he feels the tips of his ears grow hot. "I don't sleep so much anymore either."

     It's the first time Peter has heard her talk about the chaos, sometimes he forgets that his friends went through something traumatic too. The world is so different yet it remains the same, just stuck and confused. He's felt it and now the puffy eyes, the tiredness radiating from her, and the tilt of the corner of her mouth has him wanting to be the one to comfort her the way she just calmed him.

     "Thank you, MJ."

     "Anytime. Just maybe give a girl a heads up before you knock on her window in the middle of the night." She still doesn't move from the position they've settled into. "Maybe a text."

     "Right." Peter doesn't want to push her off or stop touching her. Even through the suit and her sweatpants, she's warmth and comfort. "I should go."

     "You could stay." The words are soft but clear. An open invitation and his heart begins to pound for a new reason. A better one. "I just mean it's late and you look exhausted."

     His eyes dart to the bedroom door, he wants to stay. He'd like to sink down on the soft mattress and sleep knowing she's right there but this is MJ. He's never stayed with a girl before. Is it different than staying with Ned? Of course it is, this is a girl he likes. A very pretty girl who still has her leg resting in his lap.

     "The door is locked, doofus and I'm the only one home. Nobody is coming in."

     "Oh, uh, okay." Peter doesn't know what he's doing or why he's agreeing or why he's just sitting on her bed but he came here for a reason. It wasn't to sleep with her. Not that he's sleeping with her, he's just sleeping and she's sleeping.

     Michelle finally moves, pulls her knees up to her chest and he has to admit, he misses the warmth of her leg stretched over his thighs instantly. She pushes her toes against his side and looks at him with her brow pinched. He doesn't have a clue what to do so they sit there in an awkward stare down that makes him sweat in his suit. It's better than drowning in the emotional pain that brought him to her window but he's out of his element.

     "You gonna take the suit off or do you like sleeping in onesies?"

     "I don't have clothes." He feels his cheeks turn red as he says it. MJ gets up and it's the first time his eyes settle on the bare skin between her top and the waistband of her pants.

     She opens a door he assumes is the closet and rifles through it for a minute before something comes flying at him. He catches the fabric easily, right before it would've smacked him in the face.

     "Do you need pants too? I have some pajama pants that should fit you."

     "That would be great, thanks." He catches those when they come flying too.

     Once he's in the bathroom, he changes quickly and tries not to overthink the fact that he's in Michelle's home late at night, about to walk into her bedroom again and...well, he doesn't know. There's no manual for this, nothing he could google.

     He shouldn't have said okay but now he can't back out. He's wearing her clothes. It shouldn't make him laugh but it does just a little. He's wearing MJ's shirt and pants. They fit, not too tight but he noticed her sleepwear is on the baggy side.

     After a few minutes, he's back in her room and locking the door. He doesn't know why she had it locked but he's not gonna mess with how she does things. He places his suit on the desk, next to the mask he left there earlier. It's within reach and he can grab it and go when it's daylight. Peter stops in the middle of the bedroom, hands clenched as he looks around.

     She's turned off the lamp and her book is on the nightstand. This is way different than staying at Ned's or having Ned stay with him.

     "Do you sleep standing up?"

     "Wha- uh no?"

     "Then get in." She holds up the end of the blanket and scoots herself back to give him half of the bed. He stares at it, at her but he doesn't move a muscle. "Would you just get in? It's a big bed."

     "I could sleep on the floor, MJ." It's the gentlemanly thing to do. 

     He could also web up a hammock but for some reason, his body has other ideas. He's crawling in the bed before he even realizes what he's doing. The pillow he settles into smells like lavender and honey. MJ smells like it too. It's nice. He stares at the ceiling as she drops the blanket, it's warm from her body heat. 

     He tries to make sure there's plenty of space between them, scooting to the very edge of the mattress. This is not how he expected the night to go. He doesn't usually sleep much, he has nightmares sometimes, he shouldn't be here. He's just going to keep her awake.

     "Relax, we're just sleeping."

     "Okay." But he can't relax because Michelle is right next to him, they're sharing a blanket and he has no idea why he thought getting in her bed was smart.

     He feels the mattress shift when she moves, he can feel the blanket pull when she rolls on her side to face him. He closes his eyes, determined to fall asleep or at least pretend. He flinches hard when her thigh presses against the side of his. It's followed by her fingers settling on his hand and the heat of them has him on full alert.

     He opens his eyes and she's right there, leaning over him just staring at him. He stares back and she gently moves his fingers from his stomach, pushing them away so she can lie right next to him, curl into him. She doesn't say a word and he isn't brave enough to break the silence. He lets her settle, till her cheek is pressing against his chest and her arm slides over his waist. Maybe he's not the only one here for comfort tonight.

     "MJ," he whispers like they're sharing secrets in the dark of night. Maybe they are.

     "Just shut up and hold me back, Peter." He can feel her relax and he slowly lets himself wrap an arm around her, holding her in place. 

     He might pull her just a little closer. He doesn't know what this means, if it means anything at all or if this is one of those things that happens but never gets talked about. He's cuddling MJ. In her bed. Wearing her clothes. He's surrounded by her and pressed up against her.

     It's the most relaxed and comfortable he's been since everything went to shit. The grief isn't pulling him under, sleep is and when he feels her breathing even out, he lets his eyes close again and follows.


	2. In the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where they end up in her bed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to be a one shot collection and now I’ve turned it into a multi-chap instead. Look at me go.

     Michelle doesn't talk about it. She doesn't talk about much anyway when they're in school, she's always content to be the quiet and observant one. So there's no way in hell she's about to walk up to their lunch table, plop down, and bring up the tiny little fact that they slept together a few days ago.

     Okay, it was just sleeping and it's not like she planned it. It just happened. It also just happened to be the best sleep she's had in awhile. She didn't sleep last night though, her eyes had just shut when the alarm blared and pried them open again. The lie of just reading one more chapter had kept her turning pages and falling deeper and deeper into another world all night.

     Judging from the way Peter has his chin in one hand while he picks at food on the tray with the other, she thinks it's fair to assume he didn't sleep either. Although, he could've just been out doing the hero thing. She doesn't know. MJ isn't sure why but she drops her tray right across from his and sits before the fluttering in her stomach makes her second guess it.

     She's having a standoff against her own body and its reactions. She wants to smile at him so she doesn't. Her stomach gets all twisty so she stays instead of moving to the end of the table and away from him. If he feels any awkwardness about their late night cuddle session a few nights ago, he hides it a lot better than she ever expected.

     "Hey, MJ."

     "Hey." No loser, dork, nothing just 'hey' today because she's sleepy and a little cranky and his stupid hair is doing the stupid swooshy thing. Before she can say anything else or Peter can even blink at her, Ned breaks their little bubble of solitary companionship.

     "Are we on for decathlon practice after school today?"

     "You haven't memorized the schedule?" She knows he has. She knows Peter has too. "Slacking off on me, Leeds."

     "I have but you look..." Ned trails off when she glares. 

     Normally, it'd be a little serious and a little playful. She likes Ned but today she's running on maybe half an hour of sleep and there's more bite than she intends.

     "What do my looks have to do with-"

     "I-I think Ned just means we're all kinda on edge today and maybe we should take a break." Peter rushes through the words, stumbling over them and Michelle knows what he's doing. He's being the hero and diffusing the situation before it gets out of hand because Ned is right and she looks tired, is tired, feels it in her muscles. Fuck, she needs some sleep.

     "I'll see what I can do." It's one hundred percent not because Peter is giving her those soft tired eyes.

     "Awesome, because I was thinking about asking Betty if she wants to see a movie and-"

     "Ned. Don't care." But she does care, too much, about both silly boys currently grating on her last nerve. If she wasn't so tired, she might even tease him. Screw it, tired is overrated anyway. "So you and Betty, huh?"

     MJ lifts an apple slice from her lunch tray and bites into it. Food is energy and all that, right? Peter raises his eyebrows at her but she ignores him. Sort of.

     "We're just talking." Ned is suddenly very interested in his lunch and Mj slips into a better mood, smirking at him. "Thought you didn't care?"

     "Mhm. Sure."

     Lunch flies by with some light teasing after that, a few well placed taps of her converse against the top of Peter's foot to get his attention when he spaces out, and less crankiness on all parts. She doesn't mention that she slept like a baby curled up against him and he doesn't mention that he had his arm around her till he woke hours later.

     A small part of her is angry that he doesn't. She knows he knows that she knows the secret now. He needed to talk and she listened. They're friends.

     By the last bell of the day, she's seething a little bit more. It didn't bother her at first, the silence about their night in her room had felt like something else that was just theirs. Now it's burning in her stomach, acidic and wrong. Every class annoyed her today, every student was too loud or too enthusiastic, too...something.

     She'd let everyone on the team know practice had officially been canceled. They'd all text to let her know they got the message. All but one person. Did he really think he could come to her home, sneak in her window, share so much of himself and then pretend it never happened and just ignore her?

     It could be the desperate need for caffeine that's fueling her feelings about this but she's pretty sure it's all Peter's fault. When she sees him standing by the library, her feet betray her and she heads straight for him.

     "Parker, follow me." Maybe it's the bite in her tone or just his willingness to cooperate in most situations but he does. He doesn't even ask where they're headed when she leads him out of the school.

     He remains quiet, much like he did at lunch and quiet isn't a word she's ever really associated with Peter Parker before outside of classrooms. He's exuberant and excitable, childlike and animated. She's added a few words since their late night talk.

     He's also lonely despite having so many people on his side. He's tortured and protective, fiercely so. He's...not beside her anymore? She stops and turns to find him staring up at the cloudy sky, the dark circles beneath his eyes probably match hers.

     "Where are we going?" He finally asks, dropping his gaze to find hers and MJ shrugs a shoulder. She hasn't really thought that far ahead. "It's about to rain."

     She'd tease him about his heightened senses but she's just not in the mood.

     "Just walk with me a bit."

     "Okay." And so he does.

     They still don't talk about it but it's lingering there when his shoulder brushes against hers between the crosswalk and the safety of the sidewalk. She wants to stay angry, she really truly does but then he's smiling a little bit when the first drops of rain splatter against the concrete beneath their feet. 

     "Let's get inside before it starts pouring," Peter smiles as he says it and she feels the kick in her chest.

     She could make the joke. About the waterspout and the spider, down came the rain, but she doesn't. She's still mad enough to hold out but not so angry she stops herself from following him when he ducks into the coffee shop around the corner.

     Michelle tells herself it's just because the rain does terrible things to her hair and has nothing to do with the look he gives her. They wait in line, order two caramel iced coffees, and then slide into a booth each grasping one cup in a semi-comfortable silence.

     She's not a huge coffee person but the exhaustion has kicked in and she's willing to break out the big guns to fight it off as long as possible. Judging by the face he makes when he takes a swig, he's not big on it either.

     "I couldn't sleep again." Fuck, he's really going there. It's what she wanted, kinda. Maybe. "You look like you didn't either."

     "Rude." It's soft and punctuated with the raise of a single eyebrow. "Maybe you could swing by later."

     "Yeah?"

     "Yeah." She sips the drink she doesn't really want and he does the same. "You can even be civilized and knock on the door."

     "Okay. Yeah. Sounds good." She's still mad. She's just choosing to maybe get some sleep and talk to the dork again in private without this back and forth mess and perhaps he does calm her temper in some strange way.

     She wanted to yell at him, bring up the other night and make him feel bad for not even mentioning it but somehow she's now drinking coffee and inviting him over for round two. MJ refuses to analyze why he soothes her soul or why it's amusing to watch him purposefully avoid eye contact.

     "MJ?"

     "Yes?"

     "You're a really good friend." A compliment shouldn't sting but it does. Right in her ribs. "Thank you, for opening the window the other night."

     "Don't go spreading that around. You'll tarnish my rep." He smiles and she wants to crawl under the table. So, she doesn't. She gives him a tight lipped smile in return. "Why me?"

     "Why...you?"

     "You could crash at Ned's or he could crash at yours so yeah, why me?" The warmth of his gaze leaves her face and MJ wonders how long they'll be playing this little dancing game.

     "It stopped raining." Apparently, a little while longer. Maybe she isn't quite ready for that conversation either since she lets it slide. "I should go, are you okay to get home?"

     "Been doing it for years."

     "Right. I'll see you tonight, MJ." He's gone before she can blink.  
___________________________________  
     The last time Peter was in her room, she hadn't been expecting him. This time, she is. It makes her nervous and she's spent too many hours overthinking all the little things he might notice. Her room is pretty bland, normal maybe, she doesn't even know what normal is. She cleaned.

     The floor isn't littered with clothes this time and she's straightened her bookshelf four times by midnight. The desk is spotless, her art supplies are stacked neatly and she even made the bed. The effort she's putting in isn't lost on Michelle. She isn't sure when he'll be over and last time he'd been distracted but this time, he might look around more.

     Will he notice the travel posters on her wall or the books stacked up that don't fit on her shelf? It's cluttered, a bit boring and a dull color but it's hers. She turns the bedroom light off by twelve thirty and checks her phone just in case he's texted. He hasn't.

     She shouldn't care and it shouldn't cause a pit in her stomach but it does. She could text him, might even have her thumb hovering over his contact info. She doesn't do it. It was after two in the morning the first night he showed up and disrupted her reading plans. The clock on the bedside table shows that minutes are passing but MJ feels rather stuck.

     The tiredness she's suffered through all day is making her too sluggish to function. She can't even read like this. She tries anyway but the second she sits on the bed and cracks open the book, she's incapable of investing in the words.

     "Come on, Michelle." She mutters to herself. _You cannot be this into sleeping with a boy._ But she is.

     Just sleeping next to him had quieted fears, hushed the voice in her head, and left her feeling rested. The stupid crush she's harboring had nothing to do with it. Perhaps, she wants to return the favor and spill her secrets too. She might not word vomit them out like he did in a rush of emotion and panic but the thought of someone knowing her isn't as terrifying as it used to be.

     It's almost one when she hears a knock on the window. She rolls her eyes before getting up. She'd told him to use the door this time but she bites back a smile when he lifts the window before she can. He climbs through quietly, so silent it's almost eerie. Stealth is probably handy when doing the superhero thing but equally as handy sneaking into a girl's room.

     "What if I'd changed my mind?" MJ asks once he's standing and lowering her window back down. "I said use the door this time, dork."

     "You would've locked the window." He's not wrong and seems so sure of it. She watches him move around her room. "Is it okay if I change now?"

     MJ nods and points to the door, then shakes her head. He already knows where the bathroom is from the last night he spent with her. This feels a lot different. This is planned and it's making her heart do some weird shit that she did not give it permission to do.

     She's never been so grateful to be alone at night before, she's always hated it and triple checked locks but she'd be deader than dead if she got caught with a boy in her room.

     Peter is back before she even has the pillows situated against the headboard, the backpack in his hand drops right inside her bedroom door. She doesn't comment on the fact that he locks it before stepping away, maybe she's not the only observant individual in this room tonight. The extra lock is her extra protection if someone breaks in but she's pretty sure she's safe at the moment.

     He does wander around this time, eyes traveling over her belongings and the walls. MJ knows it's something she'd be doing in his space as well. She stays quiet, watches him with his dopey smile and messy hair.

     He really shouldn't look so good and at home in her bedroom but he does. His bare feet and the black checkered pants make her a little uncomfortable in a way she's not willing to admit just yet.

     "You about done?" The teasing in her tone makes him whip around and flash her a grin that she's not at all prepared for.

     "Just learning about you."

     "You could always ask, stalker." She turns away to push the blanket down and crawl over to the side tucked against the wall. She likes this side best and he didn't seem to mind last time.

     She pulls the covers up over her bare legs and wonders much too late if shorts are okay for this. The thought vanishes when he skips waiting for the invitation and occupies the space next to her. He's getting braver.

     "I'm exhausted but a little wired."

     "Yeah, I feel that." She does. It hums in her blood just enough to keep her awake. It may be his proximity and the fact he just pulls the blanket over himself and turns to look at her like he belongs here. In her bed. In her life.

     "Do you ever think about what the world would be like if we hadn't come back?"

     "Okay, going straight for the heaviest topic possible tonight."

     "Sorry," he says, a small smile flickering over his lips.

     "Don't be. I don't really think about that, I mean what's the point? We're here and even if we weren't, we wouldn't really care." At least, that's her philosophy on it and she's sticking to it. Peter nods but those eyes of his, she can see them asking a million questions at once and struggling to settle. "Look, Peter, if we dive into what if scenarios and live there, we don't ever move on."

     "You're right."

     "Name one time I've been wrong." And just like that, her bright eyed loser is back. It's the most relaxed she's seen him in awhile.

     "I can't think of one."

     "That, my friend, is because I am never wrong." If someone had told her a week ago she'd be smiling at Peter Parker in her bed, in the middle of the night with only a lamp illuminating them, she probably would've punched the person.

     Yet, here they are. She nudges his shoulder with her own and sinks down till she's lying flat on her back. He stays sitting propped against the headboard. If they were a little more than they are now, she would probably tug him down too and curl up against him the way she did the first night.

     But she's just MJ and he's just Peter. They're just friends and she's not as fearless as she was last time with the lamp still glowing.

     "Have you read all of the books you have?"

     "No, not yet. I tell myself I won't get more till I do but that never really works out." The conversation is easier this time. He's not as jumpy, or stuttering and hey, he climbed in her bed without any prompting.

     "You have a lot."

     "I'll read them all, one day." Maybe she does have a lot, she doesn't tell him that she gets them as gifts sometimes, or that she shops library sales when she's sad.

     "You want to travel."

     "Did you get that from my various destination posters, Sherlock?" He lifts a shoulder and she wants to touch the cotton of his black shirt. It looks soft. He looks soft. "Yes, I do."

     She turns on her side, tucks one hand beneath her cheek and leaves the other upturned on the pillow. She's staring at his elbow, there's a bruise yellowing just above it and she finds herself curious about what caused it. Did he clumsily bang it against something or is this a battle bruise?

     She doesn't ask but he sighs heavily, and sinks down against the pillow. Suddenly, they're face to face and he mimics her position. One hand tucked. The other dangerously close to her own. Peter reaches behind him, twists the switch off the lamp and plunges them into darkness.

     Michelle is tired, she knows he is too but when he turns back, his fingers bump hers on her pillow. She could pull her hand back, but she doesn't. Her pinky brushes over his, deliberate and before she can make a move, he does it for her. He slips his fingers through hers, eyes closing as he shifts closer.

     Where's the boy who froze when she let her thigh touch his? With maybe five inches between them, their hands taking up the space, he's rubbing his thumb over her fingers and holding them tight. She doesn't want him to ever let go. It sounds pathetic and Michelle doesn't even care.

     "MJ," It's quiet. Almost a whisper between them and his breath is warm on her face. Minty. "I uh, I like this."

     "I like it too." She does. A lot. She watches him in the moonlight, sees the way he cracks open one eye and fuck, could he be any cuter?

     "You asked why you, it's you because I don't really want to hold Ned's hand." A smile blooms on his face and she can't stop the laugh that escapes her lips. "But yours is really soft."

     "Mm. Go to sleep." Her quiet, awkward loser is turning her insides warm and fuzzy and she's gonna blame the lack of sleep on the reaction to a boy holding her hand.

     Part of her knows she's full of shit. She gives him one last lingering look before closing her eyes. She doesn't understand this but she knows she's going to kill him if he pretends this didn't happen again.

     They fall asleep face to face, hands tangled and thoughts on hold.


	3. Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do Peter and MJ spend a night apart?

     There's something to be said for sleeping with someone you like. Peter isn't sure what it is about the whole process but he rests better with MJ by his side. Maybe it's the way she breathes, steady and constant, a reminder that she's okay and he's okay. It could be the way she shifts closer with little sighs and curls into him before the darkest hour of night. He woke to her nuzzling his shoulder once but he knows not to mention that or else.

     Every night for the last three, he tried to go home but somehow ended up in MJ's room. It wasn't really supposed to become a thing. Now it's a thing. They've agreed to keep it quiet, it's not anyone's business that he feels more comfortable snuggled up under her blankets than in his own bed. It probably has nothing to do with the blanket and everything to do with the girl who listens to his late night ramblings.

     They're opening up each night they spend with minimal space between them. It leads to talking more, and he genuinely enjoys her company. One night they talked about some of his rather amusing tales as Spider-Man and she'd laughed a little too much at his expense. He hadn't cared a bit.

     He even stayed quiet while she read four chapters of a book. Okay, mostly quiet. She'd eventually hit him with a pillow and told him to shut up but it was said with a smile that he's been thinking about ever since. If May noticed that he's been out until about daylight, she hasn't said anything but tonight he's sprawled on his bottom bunk with his phone in his hand and leaves the door cracked just enough. Being seen in his own bed for a night could squash any worries she has.

     He misses MJ. Her smile, the sleepy eyes, how soft she is when she's tired and drops the indifferent act. She cares too much. It's something he's realized during their sleepovers and he can't think of anything that MJ doesn't put her heart into. It isn't always in words. Although, she does get passionate, it comes in the brilliance of her mind, the smallest touches or smiles when nobody is looking.

     It's midnight when his phone vibrates in his palm. The incoming text has a smile tugging the corners of his mouth before he even finishes reading it.

_don't be out too late_

     Peter doesn't even hesitate to reply. Maybe she misses him too.

**_Already in bed_ **

_Loser_

**_I know you say that in the nicest way possible_ **

_do I?_

     Suddenly, his heart tumbles in his chest. Does she? He's pretty sure she does. If he could just see her face, he'd know in a second. She's probably sporting that tiny smirk that makes his face heat up.

**_If I'm a loser so are you_ **

_Bold statement, boy hero_

_**I stand by it** _

_Too bad you can't swing over_

_**Wish I was there too** _

_Bc I'm delightful._

     The smile on his face is probably permanent at this point but he's okay with that. It's better than the alternative. It's better than the nights he has tear tracks down his cheeks. Peter rolls on his side, and stares at the screen as he thumbs out his reply. They spend an hour going back and forth, treading around the obvious fact that they've never spent the night texting. In fact, this is the most they've ever talked through text before.

     It's not the same as being there. He doesn't say it because she already sort of did but his heart still races with every incoming message. There's something here, he just doesn't know how to decipher it and he's too tired to stress about it at this very moment. So, he focuses on texting the girl who makes his stomach feel weird and his chest feel lighter.

_**Hey wanna play a game?** _

_Sounds shady_

_**Twenty questions** _

_Wtf no_

_**Come on, MJ. It'll be fun** _

_I think our definitions of fun are slightly different_

_**You said I could always ask instead of snoop around your room** _

_I'm gonna regret this_

     It somehow becomes fifty questions. Her favorite color is purple but she likes neutrals a lot too. She could eat watermelon or pizza for every meal. She likes standing up for those who are bullied by society and using her voice for something bigger than just being a high school student.

     She's passionate about dogs and animals in general. She likes music, doesn't watch a lot of tv, and reads the news daily to stay up to date on current events. By three in the morning, they've surpassed fifty questions and are well on their way to a hundred. Peter's learned she doesn't have a favorite ice cream flavor because there's too many to choose from so she listed the top five and she thinks his questions are cheesy and predictable. Probably accurate.

_I refuse to answer that_

_**MJ! You can't refuse** _

_Ask better questions, you don't need to know my 4th fav color_

_**Fine what's a book you really want to read?** _

_Not much better._

_**Answer the question** _

_Caraval_

     He hasn't heard of it but makes a mental note to see if he can find it. Is it okay to be thinking of getting her gifts? He's not actually buying them. Yet. He's so screwed.

_If you could be someone else, would you do it?_

_**No** _

_Sometimes I would_

     He wouldn't and it hurts deep in his chest to hear that she would choose to live another life when she's everything he wants in his.

_**Why?** _

_convo for another time_

     He wants to push a little, figure out why that heavy of a question sparked her to spill that tiny bit of information but he doesn't. This isn't the same as being in her bed, wrapped in the scent of her shampoo and the warmth of her sheets. She could choose to stop answering and he couldn't do anything to bring her back so he treads carefully. He's been through a lot of shit, lost people, helped save the world but he wouldn't trade places with anyone.

    He really misses her warmth and the sound she made approximately fifteen minutes after she fell asleep last night. It was a soft sound, so quiet he'd almost missed it. He really wants to hear it again, maybe wrap his arms around her and pull her closer, tell her that his heart beats too fast when she’s around. He knows he'll screw that all up and right now he's content to do whatever it is they're doing with these texts and sleeping arrangements.

     By four in the morning, his eyes are heavy and burning but he keeps them open. Desperate for just one more text. They've strayed from questions and somehow found themselves in a discussion of stardust and if magic is real. It is, but what are the limitations and MJ brings up the hard truths. Magic tricks are not real. He dreamt of being a magician once, the kind with the card tricks and disappearing objects.

     Half past four and Peter dozes in and out waiting for the ding of his phone. He's going to be a zombie but he doesn't even care. They haven't slept, they're a little delirious at this point and their grammar deteriorates by the second. He's pretty sure this is almost as good as being right next to her. Except for the not being physically close to her part.

_Youre a dork_

_**You forgot the apostrophe** _

_Don't you grammar police me at 4:36 in the morning_

_**I'll wait till daylight next time** _

_Damn right. We're not heathens._

     The conversation is completely off track and he has no idea what they're even talking about but his face hurts from smiling. This isn't such a bad way to spend the night away from her. If this becomes a regular thing as well, then maybe the nightmares won't take over anymore.

_**MJ** _

_Still here_

_**Wanna come over tonight?** _

     He just means for a movie or to sleep. Like they do in her room, in her bed. Just until she's alone and he can crawl through her window again. He doesn't think May will notice, at least not for one night and he'll just sneak her out before his aunt wakes up if she wants to stay and sleep. His eyes close before the three dots are replaced with her reply.  
________________________________

     She can't believe he fell asleep before reading her reply. It's such a Peter thing to do. If that's a thing. Michelle decides when walking into class like a warm bodied zombie, that she's making it a thing. She wants to curl up in the back of the classroom and just sleep but there's no regrets about the way she spent last night.

     How could she have any when she learned so much and gained material to tease him with later? A week ago this would all seem so strange. Even a few days ago, they'd awkwardly maneuvered through a talk about how they both wanted to keep sleeping in the same room for the sake of getting a decent night of rest. Before that, they'd avoided discussing it altogether.

     She's learned that Peter Parker is great at many things. Talking about his feelings with her isn't one of them. MJ didn't expect him to be the one to pretend things hadn't changed but he had until she'd called bullshit on that whole operation. Now she's staring at him even more in classes, at lunch. He doesn't even try to hide that he stares right back anymore.

     "Hey, losers." She's exhausted but in a good mood when she takes her place across from a half asleep Peter.

     Ned looks at her, then at Peter, and finally back to her with his brow scrunched and mouth open. She chooses to ignore it and hope that her fatigue isn't as obvious as the boy with his head resting on his arms.

     "You two are up to something." Ned isn't usually this observant and her heart thumps rapidly in her chest. It's enough to make Peter lift his head too. "You both look like you haven't slept."

     "Not that it's your business, but I slept like a baby." It's a lie but she gives him a grin and it eases the tension back to a manageable level.

     "I was out."

     "Ohhh doing the...thing." MJ almost laughs at Ned's obvious cover up but she just shakes her head and raises an eyebrow at Peter.

     "She knows, Ned. I told her."

     "I don't know if showing up at my house in a suit I already knew you had is considered telling me." Now she's smirking before biting into her sandwich and Ned gapes at them both like she just blew his mind.

     "You went to her house?"

     "He did. But I already had it figured out."

     "Why were you at her house?"

     "I was just in the neighborhood." His cheeks are flushed pink, down his neck to the blue of his flannel and MJ hadn't realized that Ned would grip onto that small piece she'd let slip out. Her face is warm too. Her heart in her throat and Peter looks at her like they've been caught by an adult mid cuddle. She's not so positive her expression isn't the same.

     Based on the narrowed eyes and slight shake of his head, Ned isn’t buying their bullshit. She probably wouldn’t buy it either. There’s nothing she can do to save this conversation so she does the only thing she can think of, she kicks Peter under the table and feels a little satisfied in his jolt.

     That’s what he gets for not reading her message...and for getting them in this mess. He stares at her for a beat and she cracks open the book she brought to read as an escape from Ned’s prying, seemingly unaffected but she can feel Peter’s eyes trace over every feature on her face. Then she feels the nudge of a shoe against her foot.

     The rest of lunch is spent trying to erase the questions before Ned ever asks them and maybe playing a little footsie under the table until she finally wrapped her leg around the back of his calf and left it. Neither of them mention it. Neither of them move. However, MJ sends him a text when she’s about to excuse herself from the table.

 _I know you’re gonna tell Ned as soon as you two are alone. It’s okay._  
_You didn’t read my text from this morning. Read it_.

_**I’ll let you pick the movie.** _

_You better have movie snacks._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this is more of a filler chapter but still pretty important to move forward. Hope you liked it.


	4. One More Minute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MJ finally gets a peek inside Peter’s bedroom. Part one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the little break in updates. Life is kicking my ass. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I will tell you now, this chapter is actually split in two because it was getting long.

Peter Parker hasn't ever invited a girl over to hang out. He's not really sure why he asked MJ to come over. Okay, that's a huge lie. He wants to sleep and for some strange reason, he only sleeps if she's around and he can't crawl through her window tonight since she won't have the place to herself. Logically, the only thing to do was invite her to his place. The fact that Aunt May is leaving soon is just icing on the cake and an awkward encounter avoided.

He tries to clean his room but he gets frustrated after twenty minutes. The rest of it ends up kicked under the bed. Michelle's gonna walk in and immediately start making fun of all the nerdy things he has lying around and plastered on the walls but he doesn't mind the teasing so much. He's still somewhat in shock that she agreed to come over.

Peter tosses the last shirt from his collection taking up floor space into the hamper and gives his room a quick once over. It's as clean as it'll get. He briefly wonders if she feels this nauseated and jittery before he slips into her room for a night. His stomach is twisting, heart pounding and he has enough energy to climb the walls at least thirty times, maybe forty. It feels different now that she's the one who'll be investigating his bedroom.

     "Wow, you cleaned." Peter turns to face his aunt and tries to ignore that she's dressed for a night out or who it could be with. "Special occasion?"

     "I have a friend coming over, is that okay? We're just going to watch a movie and eat everything in the kitchen."

     "Sure, I'll be back late. Just keep the noise down and don't set the place on fire." May grins at him and he feels his stomach sink just a little. He doesn't mention that his friend is female or that he can't seem to sleep without her next to him. Some things are better left unsaid.

     "Pretty sure I'm not the one who almost starts fires."

     "Hush." They share a smile before she leaves and he's finally alone. He told Michelle to come any time but now he's grabbing his phone and checking texts just in case.

     He's taking the night off for this, unless something happens that requires his attention. It better not. This is something he's looking forward to. They haven't spent much time together other than sleeping or talking for a brief period of time and then sleeping. School doesn't really count. At least, he doesn't think it does.

     Part of him fears that she won't come until it's really late and they'll crash in minutes while the other half of him is afraid she'll be here early and they'll have nothing but awkward silences. He gives his room one last glance and heads for the kitchen to bust out the movie snacks.

     He's elbow deep in the cabinet, grabbing at the popcorn, when there's a soft knock on the door. His phone goes off next and he pulls it from his pocket to see the message from MJ. He didn't need the confirmation. He knew from the knock who's waiting on the other side. The knots in his stomach intensify as he opens the front door.

     "Hey," Peter says, standing to the side in an open invitation for her to come in.

     "Hey."

     "My aunt just left so we have the place to ourselves." MJ nods and steps inside, her eyes bouncing around as she takes it all in. Her hand grips the strap of her backpack when Peter comes to a halt beside her. 

     Her hair is down. He's seen it down. He's woke up to it tickling his face and her curls tangled around his fingers but for some reason seeing her standing in his living room with her hair down is making him breathe a little faster than necessary. It's getting harder to deny that he maybe really likes her.

     It's as awkward as he imagined. MJ looks around, everywhere but at him and he tries to follow her gaze and figure out what she's thinking but the silence stretches as they stand next to each other. She finally gives him a little glance and nods to the bag she has slung over her shoulder.

     "I brought stuff."

     "Oh, you can put your bag in my room. It's this way." He gestures to the hallway, hand waving around until he overthinks it and lets it drop. She follows him without hesitation and Peter decides it’s only awkward if he lets it be. This is the girl he’s friends with. The girl who lets him sleep under the same blanket and tangle limbs till morning.

     "I'm cleared for the night. I said I was staying over at a friend's after a study session. Didn't even get questioned."

     "It's a little messy, I haven't been home much." It's still daylight out when he leads her into his room with a sly smile at his joke.

     "Yeah, I heard you've been bugging this girl almost every night and hogging the blankets."

     "Hey! I do not. I didn't even get any of the blanket the other night." He didn't. She'd wrapped herself tight in a blanket burrito and refused to budge.

     "Maybe you should bring your own." MJ drops the bag on the bed and takes a seat next to it. "Your aunt is cool with me being here or are we pretending I'm not?"

     "I told her I asked a friend over for a movie night, she said it's okay." He has a girl in his room. His brain isn't quite functioning. _Is it hot in here?_

     "So you actually want to watch a movie?"

     "Well...yeah? What else would we do?" On the list of questions he should not ask, that's got to be right near the top. He's not unaffected by her, he's quite affected. His imagination offers up a long list of things and none of them involve watching a movie but all of them make him feel like his face is on fire.

     "Just thought we're exhausted so you'd want to sleep and you just said that to get me here earlier." She's back to looking around but she's smiling softly. Peter has to clench his fist when she reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear. He tries and fails to look away from her, to look somewhere else and extinguish the ache to reach for her.

     "N-no."

     "Okay, so you get the popcorn. I just want to put my pjs on since you beat me to it and then meet you in the living room?"

     "Sounds great." He leaves the room in a rush, scrambling to get out, needing air. He hears the door shut, his door.

     For some reason it didn't register that she's changing in his room until he heard the click and he's just going to assume there's no air in the living room anymore because it's hard to breathe. Things are changing between them, it's obvious in the thump in his chest and the way he drops the bag of popcorn two times before he gets it in the microwave.

     It was just a plan, just supposed to help them sleep. He's not sure how or when it became more but as he's listening to the hum of the microwave and the popping coming from within, Peter is fully aware that this night is a big step.

______________________________

     Michelle takes her time exploring Peter's room. There's something about running her finger over the knickknacks on his desk that puts a smile on her face. This silly nerdy boy is turning her insides to goo and she's not as mad about it as she used to be. His room is everything she thought it would be. Not that she's thought about being in his bedroom. Okay, she has but not a lot.

     Being alone in someone's bedroom feels intimate, like a secret shared between two lovers or something only the closest of friends experience. She hasn't really had a lot of friends...or boys who are a little more than friends. Her cheeks heat and her heart beats wildly against her ribs. This is his personal space, the place he goes to that's all _him_. It's his likes, hobbies, personality all rolled up into one perfectly Peter Parker room.

MJ isn't sure why she ends up standing in front of his closet, it's just a spot where her feet decided to land. She didn't purposefully wander over. However, when she reaches to open it, it's one hundred percent intentional. She's just snooping, and it's rude maybe but if this is what he feels every time he's in her room then he has more willpower than she does. Or possibly just better manners.

     She knows she's taking too long but there's no way Peter Parker will step foot back into this room knowing she's possibly getting undressed. He's too much of a gentleman. So, she takes just a little longer to get her bag and search for the leggings she brought. If she thought it was intimate to be in his room by herself, it's a whole new level when it hits her that she's about to strip out of her clothes.

     The bathroom would've been a neutral territory, but she's already here. She changes quickly and tries not to look around at all the things that scream 'this is Peter's bedroom' while slipping on the leggings. However, she pauses when she reaches for the shirt she brought, it's thin and his room feels cool. At least that's what she tells herself when she zips her bag and fishes one of his shirts off the hanger.

    It's softer than she thought it would be, a white cotton nerdy shirt that has seen better days but she slides it over her head without hesitation. Michelle leaves her backpack by the closet and gives his room one last glance before she opens the door.

     By the time she makes it to the couch, Peter is coming out of the kitchen with his arms full of snacks. A bowl of popcorn in one hand and three bags of chips in the other.

     "I don't know what chips you like so I just grabbed random kinds and-" Whatever he planned to say is silenced the second he glances up from the snacks in his arms and sees her. It would be a lie if she said she isn't enjoying the jaw dropped, wide eyed look on his face.

     "I'm not picky. What movie are we watching?"

     "That's my...you're wearing um-"

     "I brought a tank top and it's a little cold so I just grabbed this. Seemed fair since you've worn mine." The longer he stares, the more it eats away at her confidence and suddenly the floor is more interesting than anything else in the room. "I should've asked."

     "No, it's okay. You look great.” His eyes shut as his face twists and she almost reaches for him but then he’s opening them so she clenches the fabric at the hem of the shirt instead. “Sorry, that's weird. I didn't mean that."

     "So I don't look great?" He drops a bag of chips when she meets his eyes and raises an eyebrow.

     "What? No. No, you do."

     "I'm messing with you, dork." The least she can do is lean down and grab the bag that hit the floor. "Doritos, always a good choice."

     Peter places the snacks down on the coffee table and rubs his hands down the thighs of the plaid pants he's wearing and MJ tries to figure out why that's suddenly an attractive trait. Is it just something she likes to see as a guy shuffles closer or is it only a thing she likes because of who did it? The answer might be one she's not entirely sure she wants to know.

This is Peter Parker turning her insides to some weird fuzzy mushy mess. This is the boy she’s harbored a stupid crush on for years now and the same loser she swore she wouldn’t let slip past her defenses. Somehow, he ended up inside the carefully constructed wall she’s built around herself before she even noticed. One day he was simply just...there.

     They end up seated on the couch with only inches between them, lights low, and snacks scattered. The awkwardness dissipates when choosing a movie proves to be an impossibility Michelle never considered. Neither of them know what they want to watch and movie taste varies wildly between them. After ten minutes of arguing over action or comedy, Mj grabs the remote from his hand and picks a documentary on serial killers.

     "A documentary is your idea of fun?"

     "This is quality content." Except it isn't and she's just too tired to invest in an argument stating why a documentary about twisted minds is actually great date material. Not that this is a date.

     The side of the couch he's occupying seems really comfortable and MJ waits all of five minutes before she slides her legs over his lap and curls into him. The popcorn hasn't been touched, all three bags of chips are open and waiting. There's orange dust on her leggings from the handful of Doritos she's managed to scarf down. She wipes it off absently, wondering if maybe she crossed some line they'd drawn in the sand.

     This is fine. This is what they do. Usually only when asleep but he doesn't move or say anything so she presses her cheek to his shoulder and reaches for another Dorito. She's mid crunch when he finally adjusts and his arm settles around her. The tug in her abdomen intensifies at being pulled closer and the fingers he presses against her ribs are shaky.

     It makes her feel better knowing he's a little off balance when she's a lot off balance and completely without a map for the new terrain they've stumbled across. Sleeping in the same bed and sometimes cuddling a little, or waking up cuddling a lot is a bit different than just snuggling down on a couch to watch television.

     "Is this okay?" She hears the words fall from her lips but she never takes her eyes off the screen.

     "Yeah, yeah. This is...good." He hesitated but his thumb strokes against her side, over the shirt she pilfered from his closet and her muscles relax. Michelle wouldn't say she melts, she doesn't do that. She's a person not a piece of candy left in a warm space but maybe she gets a little soft. "If I have nightmares about being murdered in a park, I'm blaming you."

     "I'm sure Spidey can handle himself but I’ll be here for moral support if you do."

     "Seriously, MJ, this is what you want to watch?" Peeling her gaze from the TV, she looks up at him and smirks. He might be giving her a hard time about it but there's a smile on his face. "To relax?"

     "Already relaxed." She points at their pjs, at their position on the couch and feels him let out a deep breath. "Watch this with me so we can discuss the incredibly disturbed minds."

     "As you wish."

     They both get quiet, comfortable and at ease as their eyes droop and yawns take over. The exhaustion has been creeping into MJ's bones all day and she might be in his lap and pressed to his side but she's completely aware that he's the first to doze off. Approximately nine minutes after he stopped talking, Peter is passed out with his head back against the cushion and lips slightly parted.

     It isn't even eight but she leaves him be. The documentary loses her interest around thirteen minutes later and MJ drags her tired eyes up to watch his mouth twitch and his eyebrows furrow. She doesn't want to move but they can't sleep in this position. She could but his feet are still on the floor and his neck will ache which means she’ll have to hear the complaints. Really, she’s just saving herself.

     The popcorn is still untouched, the chips barely eaten and Peter's even breathing drowns out the sound of the TV. He wanted to watch movies, he asked specifically to watch something instead of just lay down and go straight to sleep. It's not lost on her that he's the first to knock out or that he didn't touch any of the food.

     It was all for her. This stupid boy is making her feel things, a lot of things. He makes her awkward, unsure, and a little scared. She needs to stop staring at his face like a creep but instead, she pushes up just enough to press her nose against his neck. He mumbles something that isn't even real words and she smiles. This isn't the closest they've been.

     That moment goes to the morning she woke to find him tangled around her, hand in her hair and on her hip and his mouth against her ear. Thankfully the awkward mornings aren’t really a thing. She's usually up and scooting away before he ever moves or she wakes to an empty bed and a text.

     "Peter," she hums against him, mouth soft and tone light. "Hey, wake up sleepy pants."

     His fingers squeeze against her side and he cracks one eye open. Barely. As if any more effort just can't be mustered and he's on the verge of drifting back to the land of dreams.

     "Didn't fall 'sleep."

     "You did. You can't sleep sitting up." He doesn't say anything. Just closes his eye and suddenly both arms are around her and she's being lifted as he stands. "Hey!"

     "Shh, MJ. People are sleeping." Whatever she expected, this isn't it. She didn't think Peter would be lifting her as if she weighs nothing, eyes closed and then sitting right back down in the middle of the couch with a smile on his face, looking like a complete soft dork. Or that he'd just flop over and pull her down with him.

     It isn't graceful when one of his arms is still beneath her knees. Her elbow catches his ribs, making him grunt and she has to twist to free her legs and straighten them out while wiggling to fit between him and the back cushion. It isn’t romantic, it isn’t cute. It’s just them. When she settles she’s half on top of him, her face pressed into his shoulder and hishand is in her hair. She can't deny that she lets her eyes droop a little more as he twirls a curl around his finger.

     "This isn't what I had in mind when I said you can't sleep sitting up."

     "Oh. Sorry, do you want to go to bed?"

     "No." What she wants is for him to keep playing with her hair and when she feels his other arm slide over and fingers grip at the shirt she borrowed, she doesn't ever want to move from his couch. It would be easier to stay in his hold, to let high school, the missing years, the fact she doesn't fit anywhere else all slip away. "Stay awake with me for a little bit."

     "Okay." He sinks deeper into the couch and coaxes her to rest her ear against his chest. Everything is changing. "Just tired."

     "Me too." Without it being spoken, both know they're not talking about being sleepy this time. "I don't...I'm having a hard time."

     He grips her tighter, grounding her, the hand playing with her curls stops to press gently against the back of her head. Her heart almost beats it way out of her chest. He’s holding her in place, maybe afraid she’s going to retreat but she doesn’t want to. Not anymore.

     "Talk to me." It's the same words she said to him the first night he appeared outside her window, the same soft tone.

     "It's hard to adjust. Nobody says it is, nobody talks about it but the music isn't the same, books aren't the same, movies, everything kept going when we didn't." She lifts her chin, glances up and his eyes find hers in the glow of the TV. "It's just difficult to find where to fit when nothing is the same, no one is the same, and it feels like I’m just left behind."

     "I don't think we're supposed to have all the answers."

     "Be easier if we did." She can feel his soft laugh and it sparks one of her own. "I used to think I had a plan for my life, I guess I just feel a little lost."

     "I know that feeling, good friends with that one."

     "Don't feel as lost with you." She didn't mean to say it loud, it slipped but it's out and she can't take it back. She doesn't really want to anyway.

     "I know that feeling too." They both yawn, breaking the moment. Her eyes close and she doesn't have the energy to will them back open when he tightens his hold on her. "Let's just rest for a minute."

     "Gummy bears." It's mumbled into his shirt.

     "Hmm?"

     "Next movie date. I like gummy bears and M&Ms." It's barely a whisper as her body gives in to the pull of sleep but he hears her loud and clear.

They're just gonna rest for a minute and then they'll wake, move to his bedroom for privacy. At least, that's what they both tell themselves. That’s the thought Michelle recites over and over as she drifts off.Just a few minutes and they’ll get up. The last waking moment is spent pressing her face into his shoulder. Shit, she called it a date out loud.


	5. Maybe Five More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MJ meets May...sort of. A conversation gone wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I’m seeing FFH on TUESDAY! Please no spoilers! Hope you all have a great weekend and enjoy the movie if you’re seeing it this week.

The world is strange at two in the morning. When pulled from sleep by a soft moan, everything takes a minute to come into focus. It's confusion as the pillow MJ is laying on starts moving. Everything is fuzzy as she fights to open her eyes and it takes another minute, maybe three, she has no idea, before she's alert enough to realize what's happening. Her pillow is Peter. He's breathing too fast. His legs shift against her own, his hands grip her back and hip just a bit too tight to be comfortable and Michelle knows exactly what this is.

     She's no stranger to nightmares but when he groans and his fingers dig in, she knows she can't wait for it to pass or him to wake. She tries shushing him gently, telling him she's here. A constant mantra of _it's okay, I'm here, you're okay_ seems to calm him for a few moments. His hold on her loosens and she slides her thigh over his hip. It's not a conscious thought, she just needs to be closer, have a better angle on him. 

     That's how she ends up straddling him two seconds later when he starts to thrash. Cupping his face in her hands as she presses her forehead to his just seemed logical too. All she can think about is the soft pain filled groan as the blanket falls. When did he cover them in a blanket?

     "Peter," she breathes, not even caring about the sweat on his brow. She'll tease him about being a sweaty gross boy later, she just wants his breathing to calm. "Hey, Peter, please calm down. I'm not good at this shit."

     He stills immediately, his hand flies up to grip her wrist and tightens. His eyes open, wild and he's so tense Michelle wonders if he might throw her to the floor any second. Maybe it's not a good idea to wake a superhero by pinning them down. She doesn't know how to do this. She wasn't given a Spider-Man Manual for this.

     "M-MJ?" 

     "Yeah, it's me." She pulls back just enough he can rake his gaze over her face. His eyes soften and her heart does that dumb clenching thing. Her wrist is starting to lose feeling. "I can't feel my hand, loser."

     It's dark and the glow of the TV makes him look even more pale than usual but she watches as he turns white as a sheet and pulls both of his arms up near his head. The disgust is there in the furrow of his brow and the thin line of his lips. 

     "I didn't mean-"

     "I know. Probably not smart to pin down someone with super strength, my bad." She waits for the soft chuckle he'd usually give but it never comes. "Bad dream?"

     She'll give in to the urge to sit back and rub her wrist later, when he can't see. He's too close to panicking, she can feel it beneath her in his labored breathing. Calming someone down has never been one of Michelle's strengths but his eyes are too much and they're welling up, threatening to spill over when he gives one barely visible nod of his head. 

     "Thought they didn't happen with you around. I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean to hu-"

     "We need to talk about a few things, boy hero." Starting with the fact that she did not need an apology before the ass crack of dawn. "Do not say you're sorry."

     For once, he's smart and keeps his mouth shut. Until he shifts beneath her and seems to finally realize that she's straddling his hips and still leaning awfully close. Then he's swallowing, some of the color returns to his cheeks from what she can see in the limited lighting, and he stops looking at her. The ceiling has his interest.

     "Uh, can you...move? I just want to sit up." 

     "I'm kinda comfy." That's all it takes to get him to look at her again, to get his breathing to regulate enough on the deep breath he sucks in. She pulls her hands from where they slid to his neck, down to his shoulders to push herself up just a bit more. "You should see the look on your face."

     "MJ." It's a cross between a whine and a growl and the impact it has on her is visceral. The tight clench of her stomach, her thighs, it's too much. This isn't so innocent now. 

     She's silent as she lifts off of him and stands up, pushing her hair out of her face with both hands. Fuck, she's probably a mess. Her fingers grasp the blanket on his legs before she can think twice and she twirls it around to slide over her shoulders like a cape of warmth. He's up before she can blink and if she were braver, she would have stayed. The television goes quiet, the screen dark and her mind is so preoccupied with the boy in front of her that she doesn't even notice he's the one who turned it off.

     His fingers gently wrap around the wrist that now aches and he tugs her until she stumbles after him, following as he leads them to his bedroom. Maybe she should go home, maybe they've crossed a line, maybe she made a questionable decision. _Maybe, maybe, maybe._

     This is the one good thing in her life at the moment, the one thing she looks forward to. He's her safe space and if that doesn't have her aching to flee...

     "Do you want the left or right side? You take the left in your room, it's against the wall but the right is against the wall here and I just don't know if you prefer a side or something." He's rambling, shuffling from one foot to the other and when he twists his hands together, Michelle's doomed.

     There's no way she's leaving now. The boy who holds her while they sleep is a nervous wreck before they ever touch and it soothes the insecurities she has about her own nerves. It might always be awkward and unsteady but it's them. It works. The shy looks, the soft touch, the way Peter stands in front of her now in the dark asking her which side of his bed she'd like to occupy. _All of it. All the time._

     "I'll take the wall." The blanket she'd taken from their couch cuddle session is tossed aside and she crawls in. His bed is so soft she sinks right into it and slides her legs beneath the covers. 

     When Peter settles in beside her, Michelle slides her thigh over his, curling into his side. His arm wraps around her almost immediately now and this is the one part where awkwardness takes a backseat. They might hesitate a second, avoid eye contact, but as soon the familiarity of his palm settles against her back everything is good.

     "Do you want to talk about it?" She asks as she presses closer to him, just to clear the air.

     "No."

     "I'm here, okay?" The mushy stuff has never been her strong suit but she's working on it. "I know with your hero thing, you've seen stuff and done things and probably don't always feel like a teenager but-"

     "MJ, are you rambling? Isn't that my thing?"

     "Shut up. I'm trying to be supportive." It's a work in progress but she's seventeen. There's still time. 

     "So about this movie date. We kinda slept through it." It's his stupid fault he's a comfortable pillow. MJ pushes herself up to loom over him, aiming to be a warning but probably failing since her hair is everywhere. 

     "You fell asleep first!"

     "I-I know. I just thought we could...maybe we can try again." Oh. Oh man. It shouldn't set her heart racing but it does because it's visible in the soft glow from the window. The wide tired eyes, the slight tilt of the corner of his lips, and that annoying swoosh of his hair when it falls over his forehead. It'd be more subtle if it was written across his face in sharpie. "When we're not so tired. If you want to, if not-"

     She has no idea what comes over her or why she leans in to press her mouth to his. It shuts him up and maybe the quick soft touch tells him that she wants a movie date. She wants a lot of dates. It's over before it even starts, her lips tingling from his as she pulls away and buries her face against his shoulder before he can even blink. 

     Her cheeks are burning. Her whole body is on fire, the heat traveling to her ears, down her neck until her fingertips and toes feel it too. It would be easy to let her instincts take over and run but there's nowhere to go. Plus she's tired. Finally, his arm tightens around her.

     "That was - did we just..." _Kiss._ He trails off and doesn't say it but she knows that's what he's trying to get out. "MJ, what-"

    _Oh god_. She broke him. 

     "Yeah. I just wanted...yeah." _Fuck_. She broke herself too. Willing herself to get it together, Michelle takes a deep breath and sinks deeper into the mattress, into him. "I like you or something like that. Don't make it weird."

     "Oh. That's good. I like you or something like that too." He's making it weird but then he laughs, soft and short, and she thinks maybe he's just the right amount of weird. "Taking that as a yes to the do-over movie date."

     "You didn't even ask." It's a yes. They both know it.

     They don't kiss again and that's okay. For now. There's no big declaration at this moment in time but he turns on his side and wraps both arms around her pulling her against his chest, breathing her in and that's enough to tell her this is something. It's definitely something. 

      The way he twines around her, face buried in her hair and breathing steady, it's clear the nightmare did a number on him. The kiss probably did too. It certainly has her feeling warm and her stomach at war with itself. There's no regrets on her end and that's the initiative she needs to slide her fingers through his hair and tangle her legs with his.

     "Don't leave." It's so soft she barely hears him but the words are right against her skin, his lips near her ear, his need to be reassured sinks deep into her bones. They're not about tonight, not about the nightmare or the kiss or any of it. 

     Those words are too much and not enough all at once, so she says nothing. She doesn't need to. He's the first to fall asleep again. She can feel him breathing against her neck, hot little puffs against her skin. It's more than strange but oddly comforting.

     She never thought she'd be one to go soft over a boy and here she is, in his bed with their limbs a mess and her lips still warm from a barely three second kiss. MJ lets her eyes flutter shut as she plays with his hair, it's soft and silky, a little damp but all she can think about is how terrified he'd looked when he woke.

     There's no need to tell him about the dull ache still thumping in her wrist.

_________________________________

     It's the hushed voices that wake MJ the second time. She might groan. It's too early, her body already screams in protest that she didn't get the rest she needed. Then her eyes snap open to bright daylight when the voices grow a little louder, sharp and whispered. Peter. She knows the sound of his voice anywhere.

     "It's not like that, May." Peter's standing by the door when she rolls over and this is so not how she wanted to be introduced to the woman in the doorway. 

     No one seems to notice she's awake. The looks between them say everything Michelle didn't know. His aunt didn't know about her. Nausea hits first, then her leg starts shaking, and she does not want to be the girl his aunt found in his bed. 

     "I'd like to talk to both of you." It's her chance to announce she's been awake for the last five minutes but the words don't come. "Why didn't you tell me?"

     "Because it's nothing!" Peter whispers harshly and Michelle jerks beneath the blanket. Nothing. The slap of it has her reeling, stomach tossing violently. “It’s just nothing.”

     "N-nothing?" She doesn't realize she said it out loud till two sets of eyes are suddenly staring at her. May's stance softens and MJ pushes the blankets away in haste. "I have to get home."

     Her voice did not just crack. It didn't. It's just early.

     "MJ, wait I didn't mean-"

     "No, it's okay. I just need to go home." She needs to leave.  

     MJ rushes to grab her bag and slide her shoes on and Peter is trying to get her to stay without actually touching her. The arm movements would be comical if her heart wasn't in her stomach and his aunt wasn't watching. But it is in her stomach and his aunt is watching and everything is happening too slow and too fast.

     "I'll give you a ride home if you need one, sweetie." It's the first thing May's said to her and for some reason it makes her eyes start to sting and she really needs to get the hell out. "After something to eat maybe. Are you hungry?"

     This isn't how it's supposed to go. His aunt isn't supposed to be nice to her after finding Michelle in who knows what position with her nephew. 

     "No. I want to go." _Because it's nothing. Nothing. Nothing._

     "MJ, wait, I-I was just telling May you hel-"

     "I'll see you at school, Peter." And then she's rushing by him, squeezing by his aunt who seems like a nice lady. Of course she is. Probably why Peter's so nice all the time in that way that's almost annoying. 

      Michelle practically sprints to the door, ignoring the calls to stop, to wait, to just let him explain. She can't even breathe by the time she jerks the door open. _Nothing._

     "Michelle, please!" It almost gets her. He calls her MJ, rarely Michelle now but she only pauses for a moment. It's long enough to look over her shoulder and see him standing there with those big eyes and mouth open. A mouth she knows is soft under hers. 

     May appears at his side and her stomach churns again. 

     "Why don't you stay for breakfast? Peter can make waffles." It almost sounds like a hostage negotiation and she realizes she might look a bit like a crazed madman. All tangled hair, pjs, and heavy breathing. What a great impression to make on someone so important to the boy she's a little bit in love with. 

     "Another time. I'm so sorry." It's aimed at May, not Peter but maybe she means it for both and then she's out the door. 

     It isn't till she's home and in her own room that she notices two things, her eyes and face are wet and she's still wearing his stupid shirt.

___________________________

     "Why did you have to run her off?" He doesn't mean it, he really doesn't but he whirls around on May as soon as the door shuts. 

     "I don't think I'm the one who upset her." 

     "She heard it wrong." Peter presses his palms against his eyes, warding off the headache that's already starting. He didn't mean she's nothing. He didn't mean what they're doing is nothing. MJ just didn't hear the entire conversation or she'd know. 

     "I know that and you know that." 

     "That's not how I wanted you to meet."

     "Not really how I wanted to meet your girlfriend either, bud. Finding you two on the couch when I came home was a bit of a shock." 

     "She's not my...I don't know." He wants her to be. They kissed and his heart somersaults just thinking about it. "May, I don't know anything anymore. Do I go after her?"

     "Let her calm down, I think she's had enough excitement for one morning." She crosses her arms and levels him with one look. "Besides, you and I are going to have a talk."

      "Oh no, please no. I already know what you're going to say and we're not...we don't - we just sleep." 

     "I trust you but still be safe, okay? We're having a talk about why you didn't tell me any of this, why you didn't talk to me about the trouble sleeping. Maybe a little bit about not telling me you wanted a girl to come over." He really didn't mean for any of this to happen and now May is staring at him with that look he hates. The one that makes his palms sweat. 

     "I don't know. I really don't know. I'm sorry, May." He can handle a lot of things. Disappointing his aunt, hurting MJ's feelings, those are things he can't.

     He's staring down at his feet when he feels her arms wrap him in the warmest of hugs. God, he loves May. She always knows. He returns the embrace and hugs her tight. 

     "From now on, you tell me if you're inviting her and your door better be open if she stays over."

     "Yes, ma'am." She flicks his ear and he presses a kiss to her cheek. "The door was open, technically."

     "Don't push it. Clean up the mess of snacks all over my coffee table." As far as punishments go, that seems a fair one. Mild. "And tell Michelle, she's welcome here. I swear I raised you better."

     "I know what I'm doing."

     "You don't know what you're doing." 

     "I don't know what I'm doing." He gives a sigh and flops on the couch. "She makes me nervous but comfortable. All at the same time. I panicked this morning, sorry."

     "She's special then and I'd really like to meet her properly. Not just in passing or as she's running out of our apartment because my nephew is incapable of thinking before he speaks."

     "Maaaay."

     "Love you." He knows she does, feels it every day in some small or big or embarrassing way. He really lucked out in the guardian department. 

     "Love you, May." When he reaches for the bowl of stale popcorn, Peter feels the ache in his chest intensify. He imagined this morning differently. 

     It takes him a few minutes to dump the popcorn, wash the bowl and return it to the cabinet. He doesn't have to do much with the chips except carry them back to the kitchen. He doesn't tell May that his chest is hurting, that his lungs burn, or that there's a lump stuck in his throat that makes it hard to swallow when he thinks about MJ. He just needs a second to explain everything. 

     He finds his phone and starts typing but everything sounds ridiculous, he erases each word before he ever forms a full sentence. He's standing in the kitchen, by a waffle press with his phone cradled in his hands when he looks over at his aunt. She's been sitting, watching him patiently with a soft gaze that makes everything spill over.

     "What do I tell her?" This time it's his voice cracking, not Michelle's and he doesn't think he'll ever get the sound of her being so emotionally raw and almost in tears out of his head. 

     "The truth, Peter. Always the truth." 

     He doesn’t type out a long explanation, he finds the words for three sentences and presses send before he can chicken out.

    _**It was about not sleeping, she’s upset I’m not sleeping. It’s not you or us. This isn’t nothing, MJ.**_


	6. Not Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The feelings talk and other awkward adorkable moments with our two fav cupcakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw FFH and it’s amazing. I wanted to stay and watch it over and over. I wrote this BEFORE I saw it so there’s no spoilers in this chapter and this fic will remain spoiler free and completely AU to the timeline.

He arrives at school early on Monday with a top secret mission. Peter's backpack is a little heavier than usual, loaded down with things he's planning to sneak into one specific locker. He'd spent the weekend hoping to hear back from MJ but if she'd seen his messages, she never replied.

He swung by her place a few times in his suit but she was never in her room, so he'd talked it over with May and came up with a plan. A few trips to various stores and he had everything. She was either going to kick him or kiss him again. He's hoping it's the latter.

     Ned is waiting for him by MJ's locker when he rounds the corner. He told him everything on Saturday when he came over, needing his best friend's opinion on the misunderstanding. Peter tries to forget how red his face turned when Ned asked if he meant sleeping with MJ in the biblical sense. This isn't the time to be thinking about it. This isn't the time to be thinking of her pressed against him. 

"If she ends you, can I have your comics?"

"Thanks for the confidence, Ned. Did you get it?" He's missing one key piece to his plan. "Please tell me you didn't forget."

Ned rolls his eyes and fishes a sheet of paper with a locker combo scribbled on it from his backpack.

"I'm just saying. This is romantic and all but this is MJ and you upset her. It could go either way and those comics need to go to someone who will appreciate them." There's a tug in his stomach at the thought of her being upset in his room. The look on her face, the way her voice broke and now he's about to break into her locker. However, he knows something Ned does not. Michelle Jones isn't made of stone.

He's seen her vulnerable, he's held her through the night, and woke up to her sleepy smile. He's seen her eyes in the early morning light and felt her fingers run softly through his hair when she thinks he's asleep. Without hesitating, he twists the lock until it clicks and pops open. He's on a time limit, MJ is usually always early.

"Keep an eye out. Let me know if you see her coming."

"I'm on it." While Ned peers around the corner, Peter unzips his backpack and quickly places three things inside her locker. A bag of gummy bears, a small pack of M&Ms, and a black hardcover book. "She's coming, hurry up."

He's just snapped the lock back in place and propped himself awkwardly against the locker next to hers when she appears. He wanted to be gone but there's no time. She's beautiful. She's always beautiful but her hair is doing that thing he really likes where it doesn't even look like she's attempted to tame it and it's just pulled up in a messy bun with little pieces sticking out everywhere. He really loves that.

     "What are you two dorks up to?" Her eyes narrow but she's not avoiding him completely so Peter takes that as a positive sign. The boys look at each other wide eyed and then back at her.

     "Peter told me everything and we broke into your locker."

     "Ned!"

     "I panicked!" There's a beat of silence, two, and then the corner of her mouth twitches and Peter feels a small weight lift from his shoulders. "I'll just...be over there."

     As soon as his best friend makes himself scarce, Peter steps closer to her and takes a steadying breath. She doesn't seem too upset, but then MJ's pretty good at keeping her emotions in check. Except when he hurt her. This isn't one of their bedrooms, this isn't the safe space they built with each other. It's school. There's students and teachers milling around and he has no idea what he wants to say.

     "MJ, I'm really sorry."

     "I saw your messages. I was just tired and a little emotional." She reaches for the lock and raises an eyebrow when his fingers wrap around her wrist. "Can I help you?"

     "It didn't bruise?" He looks closely, rubbing his thumb over the inside of her wrist, inspecting for any blemish and spending a minute enjoying the touch. 

     "I told you it was okay." For a second her fingers slide around to grip and thread through his and he can't breathe. He's missed her. Every part of him missed every part of her. "I'm not mad. Just didn't want to have this conversation through a phone. I don't really want to have it here at school either."

     Just like that, her hand is gone and he's frozen at her side as she enters the combination for her locker. This isn't quite part of the plan. He didn't want to be standing here when she finds everything but he can't really move and Ned already told her they violated her privacy so might as well stay. He just wants to reach for her again.

"Can we have it tonight?" Peter needs to know what the kiss meant, if he can maybe kiss her again but he knows they need to talk first.

"Yes, my room?" He nods as she lifts the latch and tugs. "I'd say use the front door but you won't."

She pauses and tilts her head when she sees the gifts he's left for her. He wasn't supposed to be standing nearby but he is so he takes advantage. He watches her eyes brighten and a soft smile pull at her lips. His face heats when she skips over the snacks and reaches for the book.

"Looks like you've got an admirer." It's stupid. It's a stupid thing to say when she knows he's the one who 'broke' into her locker as Ned put it.

"Probably a serial killer." The reference to their ruined movie date breaks his inability to move as he scoffs and knocks his shoulder into hers. She smiles softly at him and it's everything. "You remembered the book I mentioned."

She ghosts her fingers over the cover of Caraval, eyes glued to it. He read the summary and he's not sure it's something she normally reads but there had been books of all kinds in her room. He'd searched four book stores and he'd do it again a million and five times to put that look on her face.

"I just wanted to make it up to you. I really didn't mean you or us, if there's an us. I don't know. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. May was pushing about not sleeping because when she walked in I was awake, just holding - I was awake and I tried to explain but it came out that I can't sleep without you around and she's not mad. She likes you I think, but she was pushing and I panicked. I didn't mean it."

"We have class in two minutes." The book is carefully slipped inside her bag, along with the snacks but there's a light flush on her cheeks. "It's okay that you told Ned. He's a good friend."

     "But-"

     "Peter, just not here okay? I don't want the entire school knowing...that stuff. Just breathe, I'm not upset." She seems a little upset but she's right. This isn't the place.

Peter knows there's a serious talk to be had but all he can think of is how he wants to press his lips to hers. There's an audience, anyone could see and he's not sure where they stand so he doesn't. MJ gives him a small nod before closing her locker and walking away.

If it's even possible, he's more confused now than he was all weekend. This girl is going to be the death of him.

___________________________

MJ is going to kill him. She's going to murder him the way she'd decapitated each gummy bear at lunch, chuckling to herself after each bite. He's lifting her window one handed, and she's going to actually kill him. He's late. _Sooo late._ The sharp pain in his side intensifies as he climbs through and plants his feet firmly on her floor. She's engrossed in her book, hasn't even looked up yet and he slowly lowers the window back down.

She's so pretty. It hits him every time he looks at her but right now, with her curled up with her nose in a book, in his shirt again, and hair piled in a bun, it has his heart pounding loud. He almost forgets about the sharp burning ache until he inhales to take in the scent of lavender. _Oh, there it is._

When he grits his teeth and groans, she looks up from the book. There are a few spots dancing around his vision and he clutches his side as he steps closer to the bed. She's off the mattress in less than a second, her eyes wide and book tossed away. Spider-Man might've overdone it a bit and Peter Parker is fully feeling it.

"Hey, sorry I'm a little late." They'd agreed he'd swing by around midnight. It's pushing half past one now.

"Peter, what the hell?" He pulls his mask off first, tries to smile at her but if anything the concern in her eyes worsens. This isn't what he came over for but her hands are on his face before he can suck in a ragged breath and she's asking things he's not paying a bit of attention to. All he can think about is the fact that she looks so freaking pretty.

"You're beautiful and smart and funny." Her palms press against his cheeks as she rolls her eyes and he's doomed. His heart thumps heavily against his ribs, bringing the ache with it.

"Thank you. Did you hit your head?" _Yes._ On a street lamp. Twice. But that's not why she's pretty or what makes his chest feel funny.

"No. It's just my ribs." He might have a concussion.

     MJ leans in and brushes her mouth over the corner of his. He wants to turn his head, he wants to kiss her fully on the lips but she's already pulled back. He could erase the space between them but she's shaking her head, as if reading his thoughts and points at the suit.

     "Strip." He chokes on nothing. "Out of the suit. Let's go."

"Wha-what?"

"Just...just let me see that you're okay." If she had asked any other way, he might have been able to tell her he's okay and it's nothing. However, the moment she bites her lip, worrying it between her teeth, Peter knows he'll do anything. "Please."

They've shared clothes, they've shared beds, they shared a kiss. This seems wildly more inappropriate and terrifying but he swallows his nerves. He's never undressed in front of a girl and judging by the way her eyes dart around the room when his suit is nothing but a shapeless lump on the floor, she's new to this as well.

"It's just some bruised ribs. I heal fast, I'll be fine by..." The words he planned to say get stuck on his tongue when she reaches out to touch the bloom of color over his ribs.

He sucks in a breath, wincing, as the tips of her fingers trail over the reddish splotches. He doesn't look down, he watches MJ's face instead. If he looks, he's going to do something very stupid and they need to talk. It's bad enough she's pressing just enough for him to feel it and he's never been touched by anyone like this.

He feels like he's floating, he's definitely sweating from the fight and probably a little from MJ's fingers probing around on his side. The sensation burning through his abdomen, wrapping around his spine and gathering in a ball of heat is definitely all from the girl frowning at the battle marks. Peter knows his face is on fire, and his head throbs to the beat of his heart or maybe that's her heart beating rapidly. All of his senses are misfiring.

"MJ," he says, almost a squeak. He doesn't have the air in his lungs to manage anything else. "Um, I uh..."

"Relax, Peter. I'm not making a move. You'll know when I do." Killing him. She's killing him. This is a far worse (better) death than the gummy bears received.

He reaches for her hand when her thumb rubs a little lower, pulling her fingers from their exploration. Not that he really wants her to stop but he's only had one kiss and they haven't even talked. He needs her to stop touching until he can think about more than the way her brow furrows as she checks him over and the pout of her lips. He cannot embarrass himself wearing only boxers in the middle of her bedroom.

"Sorry, just intense."

"Didn't mean to get that hands on. What can I say, the abs really get me going." The heat of her gaze paired with the teasing makes him groan. "You sure you're okay? Does anything else hurt?"

"Just the ribs." She's still standing entirely too close and he's still entirely too underdressed to be thinking clearly. "I like you."

"We had this revelation already."

"Right. Uh, just clarifying because of the misunderstanding." Now it's awkward. He makes everything awkward and he isn't trying to but his head is throbbing. "I should put my clothes on."

"Yeah." He could be hearing things, maybe he got knocked around one too many times tonight but she sounds a little breathless.

By the time he's dressed, excused himself to use the restroom, brush his teeth, and makes it back to slide her door closed, MJ is sitting on her bed with her back against a pillow and book in her lap. Peter is clear headed enough now to notice that her hand shakes as she flips the page. He doesn't say a word till he crawls in next to her and looks at the cover of the book she's cradling.

     "I'm sorry if I scared you."

     "It's okay. Just promise me you'll always try to make it out alive?" Her hands are still shaking when he reaches for one and pulls it into his lap, weaving his fingers through hers. "I kinda don't want you to die. Too dramatic even for you."

     "MJ, I'm okay. I promise, I heal fast."

     "And the pounding headache, you plan on hiding that all night?" Her fingers tighten over his hand and squeeze hard. He almost smiles but her eyes are too serious, too...something. "Not an idiot, Peter."

     "You're the smartest person I know."

     "Flattery isn't getting you out of this." The book is set aside and the hand he hasn’t taken hostage is suddenly in his hair, stroking softly against his scalp and it feels too good. He doesn’t mean to let his eyes close or to hum when she presses her body closer.

“Feels really good.”

“Peter,” the feel of her moving closer and the softness in her tone make him force his eyes back open. She’s right there, maybe two inches away. Beautifully bright eyes tugging at his soul and he doesn’t think twice this time.

Her lips are warm when he closes the distance. Everything about MJ is warm. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing but he slides his hand over her waist to pull her in. He kisses her the way he wanted to in the hallway. Soft, slow, warm. Mouth moving over hers, with hers. Testing the water before diving in. It’s one hesitant slide of his lips followed by another, breathing her in.

It’s different than the quick kiss she’d given just days ago. Braver, she’s tugging his hair, kissing him back as they fumble and smile against each other’s mouths. He doesn’t take it any further than brushing lips and letting his palms find her hips. His hands are trembling now too, his body warm and he nudges his nose against hers before opening his eyes.

“Wow.”

“What an extensive vocabulary you have.” How she manages full sentences, he has no idea but it’s just one more thing he really likes about her. “Does this mean we can skip the gooey talk?”

“No. MJ, I really like you and I’m sorry that what I said hurt you. May asked why I didn’t tell her I wasn’t able to sleep, not about you. That’s when I snapped and said it’s nothing.”

“I know, I didn’t hear the whole conversation and I just thought maybe this was too good to be true I guess. Waiting for it to go wrong.” _Oh_. Oh, they’re really doing this. “Look, uh, I didn’t have friends or anyone really and this is just new to me. I’m probably going to mess up a lot.”

“You kissed me and before we could even talk about it, I messed up so I think we’re a pretty good pair but we’re on the same page right?”

“We’re on the same page. Can we be done with this awkward feelings stuff?” It is awkward when there’s no guidelines on what to say and when and how but none of it matters when she smacks a kiss against his lips. “I wanna get back to my book.”

MJ doesn’t reach for the book. She reaches for his ears, cupping her hands over them and tugging until he just lets her lead. She guides him down, pillowing his head against her thighs as he twists to find a comfortable position. It only takes a moment before they’re settled and the throbbing already feels significantly better.

“Where are you going to put your book now?” She says nothing and holds it just above his nose with one hand, making sure he knows she could drop it any second. “Do you like it so far?”

“Are you gonna talk the whole time I’m reading?”

“No. Just curious.” He might talk just to get her lips to lift at one corner, sometimes he does it just for the eye roll, but mostly he just likes the sound of her voice. He peeks around the book when her fingers card through his hair and notices a small freckle under her chin. “Will you read it to me?”

“Are you five?”

“Come on, MJ. I’m bored.” Peter isn’t bored at all. He’s tired but not bored. Not with her hand against his scalp and his lips still humming.

     He can’t be bored when she moves the book to rest on his chest and leans down to kiss his forehead, muttering about his constant need for attention. He likes her like this. He likes her always but the softness here, the way she only hesitates for a second, it all just makes him happy.

“You’re a nine year old on a sugar rush.”

“I was five two seconds ago so at least I’m aging up. At this rate, I might be old enough to take you on a date by morning.” That one earns him a flick on the nose but her fingers slide right back to twist a lock of his hair around and around as her eyes trail back to the hardback now pressed to his chest. She holds it open and begins to read aloud about a magical world filled with wonder and mystery.

He doesn’t remember much after the first several pages. He zones out, listens to her quietly read the poetic prose, wondering what the words would taste like if he kisses her. He fights to keep his eyes open but she moves from pressing her fingers above his ear to rubbing her thumb over his temple and the ache leaves.

Peter wakes sometime before daylight to find MJ asleep sitting up and his head still in her lap.


	7. Erase the Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MJ isn’t always good at feelings but she’s trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter mentions sex but it’s not graphic and just a conversation topic. 
> 
> Other than that, it’s just a lot of feelings.

It's been a little over a month since the first night Spider-Man showed up outside her window and Michelle can't really imagine going back to the way it was before. She's too used to Peter climbing through her window, tossing his stuff wherever he pleases, excitedly chattering about something cool he did or nursing a wound that has her swearing up and down he's going to give her grey hair before she's twenty.

She's seen more than she's ever wanted to. Scrapes, bruises, full on gushing blood wounds that make her nauseated and he casually told her one Saturday that he might've been hit by a car. As if that's completely normal. However, every time he hugs her tight after he's patched up, he lets her breathe him in and they just spend the night cuddling or watching something funny.

The dude she never wanted to like but always did has somehow turned her into the person who curls up in bed with a book and a boy. She's become the girl who steals kisses between chapters, can't keep her hands to herself or out of his hair, presses her face into his chest when she's tired, and she even started collecting his clothes. MJ has become a sap and she doesn't hate it as much as she thought. Sometimes it scares her.

He's all over her room even when he isn't with her. A shirt tossed over the back of a chair. A half finished sketch on her desk that he's scribbled little hearts onto in one corner just because she told him not to. A little note he left stuck to a bulletin board next to her travel posters. One side of the bed smells like him, one pillow will never be the same and she might hug that pillow sometimes. When he isn't around and she misses him, she grabs it and just keeps it close. It's stupid and pathetic and something she never thought she'd ever do.

     Little pieces of Peter Parker are everywhere and she knows his room is starting to be just as crowded with things that are all her. Things she might leave accidentally on purpose. He's ruined her in just six weeks. It worries her how fast they've fallen into a relationship and how easily. She has nights she asks him not to come over just so she can think about it and work herself up.

     He always seems to know because when they see each other again, usually at school, he gives her the space she needs until she actively seeks him out. Sometimes it bugs her. This is not one of those times. This is one of the times she's calling him to tell him to open his front door because it's been a few days since she's seen him outside of school and she's managed to doubt her way into a mess of emotions. While they both sleep better even when apart now, it's still not as comfortable or as fun as sharing the bed with him.

     Some nights are still too hard to be alone and maybe this is one of those. He opens the door in seconds and she knows he ran to it, slid in his socks half the way because there's a thump and a "shit" and then it's open. He's there with his hair a little wild.

     They say nothing as she follows him through the apartment but his hand is wrapped around hers and it's all MJ needs to know they'll be okay. As soon as they're in his room, she plants her feet and tugs till he turns around. He's the only one she feels comfortable enough with to let the guard down.

     Words aren't always needed here. They've become pretty good at communicating with a look or a touch. In this case, she uses both. A soft look as she reaches up to stroke her fingers over his cheek, a question that he answers by bringing his lips to hers. The kiss is tender and warm, chasing the darkest of thoughts away.

     "You okay?" Peter asks, brushing the hair from her face and holding her close.

     "Missed you."

     "Not to be that guy but wanna get in bed with me?" Another night she might shove his shoulder and roll her eyes but tonight she's just feeling a little more raw. She answers by letting go of him, kicking off her shoes and crawling across the bed. It's small but they both fit.

     Maybe it's a little cramped but it's perfect for cuddling. When he settles next to her and his arm slides over her stomach, she decides the bed is absolutely perfect as long as he's in it. What a sap she's turned into.

     "MJ?"

     "Yeah?"

     "I know you were texting me the whole time so I'm letting it slide that you came alone in the middle of the night, but please just be careful." The fingers fiddling with the hem of her hoodie, clench and unclench in the fabric. He's holding back but she lets him.

     "Sometimes, I get really scared that I'll disappear again or that we're doing everything wrong with this relationship thing and it's going to implode. I was alone when it happened and I just don't want to be alone, Peter and I overthink until I'm overwhelmed. I'm sorry." He doesn't say anything for a few minutes. He doesn't even point out that every time she gets a little distant, she's pushing him away. "I'm sorry that I haven't been answering as much or around."

     "We should be in college and we're still in high school. We should be adults and we're still just teenagers who missed half a decade," he pauses a beat to shift closer. "And I don't know if we're doing everything right or wrong in our relationship but I know how I feel about you and how happy I am with you."

     "You just want me for my body." She's teasing, smirking when he frowns.

     "Actually, it's for the bigger bed."

     "Jerk." He isn't but the endearment is whispered against his lips, pressed into them. "Let go of me for five seconds so I can take this hoodie off."

     He's childish enough he counts each second. Spelling out Mississippi as he does, until he reaches four and she's pushing at her sweats too. He loses count completely as she slides them down her legs and tosses both articles of clothing onto his floor.

     "MJ," his voice dropped an octave. "What are you doing?"

     "You're a furnace and I don't want to sweat all night. Chill, the rest of the clothes are staying on." The shirt she’s wearing covers all the way down to mid thigh anyway and he really is too warm but maybe she shouldn’t have done that. “You have a pair of shorts I could borrow?”

“No.”

“You don’t have any shorts?”

“No I mean...it’s okay if you want to sleep like that.” Any other boy and she’d swear there’s ulterior motives but she knows this one too well. He’s sincere and he won’t be trying anything so she slides her legs under the blanket and settles back down on the mattress. “Just put them back on before May wakes up.”

“Didn’t she just buy you a box of condoms?” The way he groans and drags a hand over his face is so worth her own secondhand embarrassment. “I think she knows we want in each other’s pants.”

“Please don’t. We agreed to never speak of it.”

“You do want in my pants right, because if you don’t then I think I’m in the wrong bed?” They haven’t had that talk yet. She squeaks when Peter grabs her waist and pulls her tight against his chest but the laugh against her ear is enough to let her know everything. “Hey, sir. I’m trying to sleep.”

“Oh are you? I thought you were trying to embarrass me to death.”

“Easy target.” He might be but then he’s pressing his smile against hers and she forgets about teasing him.

When she turns in his arms to press her back to his chest and his lips land on her neck, it hits her that maybe he’s the only person worth risking her heart for. The only one she feels comfortable enough with to be wrapped in his hold and halfway to sleep before his nose pushes against her shoulder. Stupid cute boy.

____________________________

Peter can’t sleep. It’s not unusual but it’s a little different tonight. Michelle is asleep in his arms, nothing groundbreaking since they do this a lot and he’s breathing against her shoulder, watching her face as he spoons her. Again, nothing new but it always feels new. It’s the fact she’s not wearing pants that has him blinking at her in the moonlit room.

She mentioned sex and it’s something they’ve never really discussed. He’d been red as a tomato when May tossed him the box of condoms and immediately he’d texted the one person he could. MJ. She’d called him to laugh and laugh in his ear until he’d reminded her that she was his girlfriend and it meant his aunt was thinking about her too. An agreement was made to never speak of it again.

Sure, they’ve kissed but he’s not sure they’ve even fully made out yet. Maybe that time against his door counts. His hands had definitely wandered and they were both panting by the time he pulled away. But that didn’t mean anything more than just two teens making out. It was only once. He really wants to do that again soon.

They’re dating. They’re stumbling through it, figuring it out and he just likes her so much his heart starts to race just thinking about it. Part of him thought it might calm down over time but it hasn’t yet. Every time she looks at him, his heart somersaults. Even now, it’s erratic.

She’s in his arms, in his bed, pressed against him with the backs of her legs glued to the front of his and his heart is pounding. Does she even know how beautiful she is like this? Hair a mess, eyes closed, so peaceful and relaxed, she’s easily stunning and it makes his lungs ache.

He wouldn’t have ever guessed she sleeps so peacefully when she’s such an unstoppable force while awake. Then again, he didn’t know how often she has doubts, how guarded she is, or how she wakes trembling from a bad dream in the middle of the night until the last several weeks.

They’re both a little bit broken but his shattered pieces fit with hers.

Peter grips her a little tighter and she shifts, sighing and burrowing deeper into his pillow. The pillow she’s pretty much completely stolen by now. He doesn’t mind not sleeping when he can feel her breathing, hold her, and revel in the warmth of her.

He doesn’t even mind when her hair sticks to his face or pokes him in the eye. Sometimes he wakes up to it tickling his nose and still, he can’t complain. He’s so focused on the little scar beneath her ear, the one he can barely see in the dim lighting that he jerks when she speaks.

“You’re thinking too loud.” MJ snuggles back into him, turning her head to look at him

“Thought you were asleep.”

“I was but again, you’re thinking too loud.”

“Sorry.” Her eyes slip closed again and he wonders if she knows that he really does want her. All of her. All the time. In every way. Does she know that he sees them continuing this relationship, getting serious, doing... _things_? He can’t be thinking about it when she’s nestled back against him from head to toe. “MJ?”

“Shh, I’m sleeping.” He lets her drift back to sleep and presses his face into the back of her shoulder. She doesn’t hear him mumble that he might be a little in love with her against her shirt before he finally gives in and closes his eyes.


	8. To Be Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one with MJ’s feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how this fic became them just falling asleep cuddling in random places but here we are?
> 
> Don’t worry, after this chapter we see Ned and May again.

     "Peter, let's go! I'm going to start this without you if you're not on this couch in five seconds." MJ is dead serious. He's taking way too long doing who knows what and she wants to get her movie binge on with her boyfriend.

     Before she can start the countdown of seconds remaining, he sails over the back of the couch and lands next to her with a smile so wide she rolls her eyes. He's ridiculous on the best of days but he's hers. The thought still has her heart doing weird things in her chest and she's starting to think that will never go away.

     "Show off."

     "I made it in five seconds." His lips smack against hers and she wishes he'd stay. Press his mouth over hers in more than a chaste kiss but they agreed to watch a movie not make-out like hormonal teens.

     "I noticed."

"C'mon MJ, you plan on starting this movie or are we just going to sit here?" He's teasing, smiling too much but his eyes are brighter than they've been in days so she lets him get away with it. Her knee still knocks against his when she presses play.

If there's something she's learned about the boy pressed to her side, it's that he cannot be quiet during a movie. He asks a hundred questions, runs commentary on everything happening, and occasionally goes off in a rant about something completely unrelated. He makes it five minutes before he reaches for her hand.

He doesn't make it ten before he's trying to pull her closer. It happens every time they try to watch something. First, his fingers thread through hers, then he's tugging and if she ever pulled away, he'd let her but she doesn't try. She goes willingly, pressing into his side as his arm drapes over her shoulders. She keeps their hands linked and for some reason she will never delve into, she sinks into him with a content sigh.

"Don't fall asleep or I'm drawing on your face with a sharpie." It's a warning but it's playful. MJ wouldn't actually draw on his face but he doesn't need to know the threat is empty.

"I'm not going to fall asleep during _Finding Nemo_. This is a classic." That's the same thing he said a week ago and he was asleep halfway through the movie. "It's only six."

"Just saying, if you fall asleep you don't get to make out with me after." She huffs out a laugh when he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Behave, I want to watch this."

"You've already seen it." More times than she will ever admit out loud. "You know all the words. It's really cute."

"Peter."

"MJ."

"Stop talking." He does. For a minute.

It's adorable to watch him press his lips together trying to hold it all in. He tries and she knows he can be silent when it's necessary, but movie nights he chatters. He's animated, eyes wide and taking everything in. Maybe she just suggests these nights so she can watch him be light and carefree for a little while. It balances out the boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"What do you think fish are really thinking when they see a boat?" The silence ends just like that and MJ is laughing as his brow furrows. "I'm serious."

She presses her face into his shoulder to laugh harder and feels the moment his chest starts to shake too. Sometimes, she's amazed that he's a superhero, amazed that he's so serious and caring and saves people's lives because when they're here on his couch, he's just a silly teenage boy. He's seen too much, been through more than she can begin to process, and he's still smiling at a cartoon fish. Yeah, she suggests these ridiculous little movie nights just for him.

     Last week she sat through every _Star Wars_ until she'd passed out on his chest all because he'd been having nightmares for two days. She doesn't know why she feels the need to help in some way but it's always right there in her chest, tucked behind her ribs. So MJ does what she's capable of as a teen, she sets up dates that are light, cuddles into him, or she just makes out with him until he's breathless and barely remembers his own name.

     It's the little things that keep him grounded. The press of her mouth or even the comfort of her voice in his ear when he's struggling and she wraps him in her arms until he's calm. She wouldn't say she's the only one capable of helping him out of the dark trenches but if her presence helps then she will always do her best to make the most of it. As much as she adores Spider-Man, the boy behind the mask has her heart. Maybe it scares her.

"...MJ, are you even listening to me?" She isn't. She has no idea what he's said but she nods.

"Yes. I just got invested, sorry." She doesn't tell him she was so invested in him that she forgot he was right here with her.

Peter's back to asking questions and giving her random marine life facts before she can even blink. She knows some of it, impresses him with her own little factoids and brushes a kiss to his lips when he beams at her. Movies with him are an experience she'll never tire of even when his hands get a little braver and one ends up against the bare skin of her side.

They laugh more than they have in days, pressing closer, bodies and hands craving the familiar touch. By halfway through the movie, she's in his lap and curled around him. The things she does with him, the things she never thought she'd be capable of. For example, the affection she gives when she rubs her nose across his jaw because she wants him to stop watching the movie and kiss her.

He answers every time, turning to press his mouth to hers for a brief touch. Sometimes, she reaches up to hold him in place, to kiss him longer until the need for air burns her lungs and his fingers beneath the hem of her shirt press firmly against her skin. She's obsessed. After years of telling herself that boys are pointless, she doesn't need one, she can be a badass boss babe, here she is all heart eyes for a complete dork.

She's still a badass. Peter doesn't try to change her, he doesn't take away from the woman she's becoming. He's just a bonus and she's possibly more of a badass now. How many people get to say they patch up superheroes and help them deal with the trauma their powers often bring?

Neither of them move when the credits begin to roll and Michelle remembers when this wasn't this comfortable. The times the awkwardness would creep in and they'd stumble through touching or talking. It still happens sometimes but for the most part, they're pretty good at kissing and cuddling now.

Peter's cheeks still flush when she sinks deeper into his hold and wiggles around to find just the right spot so her back stops aching. His bed would be better.

     "Hey, I have something for you," he says with a little smile pulling at his mouth. “Do you trust me?”

“Define trust. Are we talking-”

“Michelle.” It’s her full name, not the nickname she’s so used to hearing spill from his lips and just stern enough she knows he’s not playing around.

“You know I do.”

“Yeah, yeah I do. Come on.” He’s on his feet in an instant, dumping her on the couch only to reach for her hands and help her up. She doesn’t comment.

Proof she does trust him with everything, MJ follows along two steps behind as he leads her through the apartment. If they’ve reached the point where they tumble into his bed and lock limbs or mouths then she’s more than okay with that. Except he goes the wrong way and leads them straight out the front door.

“Peter?”

“You said you trust me, so let’s go.” He gestures to the door at the end of the hall marked stairs and she wants to ask at least twenty-three questions but he’s locking the door, shoving a key in his pocket and she knows they’re officially not going back inside.

“This better be good, boy hero.”

“Ladies first.” She rolls her eyes but leads the way. It isn’t till they’re in the stairwell that he shakes his head when she starts to head down. “We’re goin’ up, not down.”

“Up?”

“To the roof.” And then his hand is against her hip, steadying her, grounding her as they climb up and up. “Thought you’d appreciate the stairs.”

She does. There’s no way she’d let him carry her up the side of the building or something spidery. She doesn’t care how sticky he is or how sturdy the fire escape looks, she’s not doing that. Ever. But her legs begin to ache and she starts asking how many floors this building has and why. He dodges every question, nudging her with soft hands at her back, her hips. The encouragement keeps her going when she wants to stop.

“You know if you wanted to stare at my ass you could’ve just asked. You really didn’t need to go through all this trouble.”

“That is not the goal.” He’s not even out of breath and it irks her. “Just an added bonus.”

Of all the things she expected him to say, that’s not one and it drags a laugh from her burning lungs. She’s sweating by the time she gets to the last landing. She really prefers elevators but maybe she’ll do just about anything for the boy following her.

As soon as the night air hits her, she all but tumbles out onto the roof. It’s easier to breathe and cooler than the stuffy stairway. She doesn’t have to ask him why they’re up here when her gaze drifts over to one corner of the building they’re standing on.

“Peter,” she whispers, out of breath from the climb and more than just a little in awe. “What is this?”

“Do you like it?” The bundle of pillows near the edge has her heart racing, or maybe that was the exercise. The things she does for him. “I uh, we never really went out on a date so I thought this could be-”

“A rooftop date?”

“It’s too cliche, isn’t it?” It might be but she doesn’t even care. It’s still romantic, it still makes her smile. “It seemed better than ice cream or coffee.”

She kisses him to shut him up before he starts second guessing because it’s simple and perfect and no one can interrupt.

“I like it.” Then he’s beaming at her and all Michelle can do is kiss him again, press her smile against his over and over. She rubs her thumb over the shell of his ear, mumbling into his mouth, “You’re a romantic mess, Peter Parker.”

For some reason, she’s fine with that. She loves it more than she ever thought she would and with one last press of her lips to his, she’s pulling away to walk closer to the edge. The pillows are from his bed, the blanket too. She’s thankful it’s not directly on the edge of the roof, but it’s close enough to have her stomach flopping around. It calms when she sits on the middle of the blanket.

“You really webbed this thing down?” The corners are snugly attached to the roof.

“It was windy.”

“Come sit with me.” MJ pats the blanket, wanting him closer. When he sits and stretches his legs out in front of him, she leans into him to rest her head on his shoulder. “If I somehow fall, I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Aw, MJ, you gonna fall for me?”

“Wow. That was awful.”

“Yeah, it was.” His arm wraps around her waist, and he points to the skyline with the other. “The best view is from that building but I only had ten minutes to set up.”

“This is a pretty good view.” Now she’s the one making awful cheesy comments, never taking her eyes off of him. “Forget I said that, I’ll blame the height.”

“I’m never forgetting you said that.” Peter pulls her closer, leaning back until she tumbles with him against the pillows.

They can’t see the stars here and she knows that’s not even the point of this so it’s okay. Instead of staring up at the sky, she turns on her side and stares at Peter’s face. The roof isn’t comfortable at all even with the blanket as padding but she won’t complain when he looks so peaceful.

“You haven’t been Spidey this week.” Honestly, she doesn’t mind. She likes the extra time with him but she’s trying to make sure nothing is wrong.

“Just...needed a little break.”

“That’s okay. You know that, right?” He nods but MJ isn’t stupid. She knows when he’s just playing something off in an attempt to appease her. “Peter, I’m serious.”

“I’m gonna get back out there.”

“I know you will.” She lifts to press a kiss to the underside of his chin. Knowing that’s as far as she’s going to get for now, MJ changes the subject. “You should’ve brought some snacks up here.”

“Pigeons.”

“If a bird craps on me, I’m never speaking to you again.” It gets the reaction she wanted, a laugh that rattles his chest and has his mouth opening wide.

It’s a lie that comes with a chuckle of her own. The sound of his laugh is light, full, and she buries her smile against his shirt. When his hand strokes over the back of her neck, she relaxes into him. There’s nowhere in the world she’d rather be at this moment than right here on a roof with the boy who makes her insides warm and fuzzy.

“You’re amazing, MJ.”

“Duh.” Except sometimes, she doesn’t feel it. “So are we having a rooftop sleepover?”

“No. We’ll go back down in a bit.”

“That’s good because this is getting rough on the hips.” She probably should’ve known better. As soon as the words are out, he’s gripping her waist and dragging her on top of him, tangling their legs.

“Better?” It is. He’s warm, comfortable. Her hips press to his and it’s one hundred times better.

“Peter, I love-” She doesn’t know what’s coming out of her mouth or why but his eyes are locked on hers and her heart is racing. “I love this. The date, I mean.”

“We usually just stay in each other’s rooms or watch movies. I wanted to do something different, something May can’t interrupt.” If he notices that her palms are sweating when she slides a hand over his jaw, up into his hair, he’s sweet enough he doesn’t say it.

The thud against her ribs doesn’t slow down, if anything it’s pounding louder, faster. She has no idea why. She doesn’t know what’s going on in her chest or why he’s looking at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters. As if she’s everything. It’s too much. So she hides.

She scoots down, rests her cheek just above his heart and closes her eyes. Breathing him in always calms her but her brain is zipping at warp speed. This is not the time nor the place to tell him she might love him. Kinda. Maybe. She doesn’t know. It’s confusing in her head, in her heart.

“I like being with you.” It’s safer, not as risky and if silence comes after then it isn’t as terrifying. “I like date nights even if we just fall asleep. Nap dates are amazing.”

“Nap dates are pretty good.”

“I wouldn’t say no to an ice cream or coffee date, for future reference.”

“Noted.” Slowly the lump in her throat dissipates and her body settles. “We should go back soon.”

“Okay.” He hugs her tighter and she snuggles down.

They don’t move until the sun begins to rise and he wakes her with sleepy kisses and soft laughs when she tells him to go away. Yeah, maybe she is a little in love and maybe it makes her a stupid mess for him.


	9. The Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MJ pulls a big romantic gesture that goes all sorts of awkwardly sideways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The note at the end is a special message :)

Peter knows his girlfriend isn't one for giant romantic gestures. She prefers little moments and small touches. She likes watching movies together, sharing a pizza, and cuddling or nap dates. However, he takes to leaving notes in her books or sketch pad on a brightly colored post-it and she says nothing about it. He catches the smiles she tries to hide as she reads them, the way her eyes light up, and he doesn't need anything more than that.

He isn't prepared for the slip of paper sticking out of his chemistry book. It isn't that MJ isn't romantic, she is in her own way. He adores her. The brutal honesty paired with a kiss or her body wrapping around his as she laughs and soothes the sting with a quick compliment. Some nights they stay awake to talk about serious things like the future and she's soft, pliant, and a complete sap in an awkward kinda way.

So it's not that she never does anything to showcase affection because it's quite the opposite but he's never found a note in any of his belongings or schoolbooks before. He knows before unfolding the note that it's from her. The same way he always knows when she's in the same room as him, or in the vicinity. His heart beats a little faster, heavier. A thump against his ribs saying _she's here, the one you love_ and then he spends at least two minutes arguing with himself over why he hasn't told her his feelings.

The words scrawled on the page are definitely hers, the loops and lines he knows well from watching her take notes during class and borrowing them for classes he's missed. Not that he stares at her. Okay, so he does. It's not creepy now, they're together.

_Hey loser,_

_Hopefully you see this before class but knowing you, you didn't and now you're sitting there reading this instead of paying attention. Don't worry, you can borrow my notes later. Best girlfriend ever award goes to me._

He smiles without meaning to, one of those grins that takes over the whole face, scrunches the eyes and radiates pure happiness. She really is the best. Not that he has a lot of experience but...she's the only experience he ever wants to have.

_Stop smiling like a creep or the teacher is going to catch you. Now that I have your full undivided attention, I need you to go to the first class we ever had together in this building. Right now. You're good at running out of classes, make one of those famous Peter Parker excuses._

He doesn't even finish the note. It takes him two minutes to shove everything back in his bag and jump up with an excuse. Probably the worst one he's ever given and Ned just looks at him from the desk next to his. He knows before he's out the door with the teacher yelling, that he's going to get a text from his best friend but he doesn't have time to think about that. He's too busy clutching the note in his hand and sprinting through the hallway.

First class they had together in this building just happens to be a room that's no longer used as anything more than storage for extra desks and tables. He doesn't know what he's expecting but when he turns the corner and sees the door firmly shut, his heart skips at least three beats.

The door is surprisingly unlocked. MJ definitely had something to do with that because he knows for a fact, it's locked year round. When he steps inside, his heart sinks just a fraction. She's nowhere to be seen, he even peeks behind the stacks of chairs and under tables. He checks the closet at the back of the room too, vaulting over the desks piled in front of it. He smooths out the note he crumpled on his journey here, and frowns down at it.

_No, we're not going to make-out hot and heavy in an abandoned classroom so slow down. I’m not there. Once you’re inside, check the 3rd desk from the right in the 4th row._

He learned nothing from rushing the first time and not reading the entire note as he once again stops reading to count the desks. Does she mean the fourth row from the back or the front? Right from facing the north or the south or does she assume he's standing to the side? He looks back at the note and this time he's set on finishing it.

_It's the desk with the green smiley sticker on the top corner, you absolute dork. Stop wasting time reading this and get to work._

_\- MJ_

Peter's smiling again by the time he folds the paper and slips it into his pocket. He has no idea what this is or why he's suddenly sliding his hand in a desk that has gum stuck to the bottom and stickers littering the top but he's pretty sure he'll do just about anything she asks. His fingers land on something sticky and he makes a face.

He peeks inside and sees the blue paper square face down. She definitely did that on purpose so he'd touch the sticky side of the post-it first.

_If you found this, you're on step 2. The first note you left like a creeper in place of my bookmark was blue. What book was I reading? Hint: It was with you._

_P.S. If you comment on this rhyming, I'll lock my window forever._

It hits him immediately, a sucker punch right in the gut that has him almost doubling over in excitement. This is a scavenger hunt. Michelle Jones is sending him on a scavenger hunt. He doesn't even care that he's about to skip the rest of class, he heads for the library knowing he has approximately twenty minutes before the last bell rings. She reads a lot with him around but he knows what book she's referencing.

Peter rushes through the library, ignoring the looks as he quickly scans shelf after shelf until he finds the right section, the right title and pulls it down. There's nothing on the cover so he flips it open, thumbs through the pages until something bright green catches his eye.

_Find loser #2 for the next clue._

Okay, that one is lackluster and has him frowning. He just left Ned back in class to start this adventure and now she's wanting him to go back? He doesn't understand why she'd lead him to a book just to tell him to go find his best friend. What does Ned have to do with this and does he even know about it?

He keeps the post-it and leaves the book behind. Scratching his head as he walks back out of the library, confused and a little disappointed. Until he looks up and sees Ned standing by the water fountains.

"Hey, man. Do you know what's going on with MJ?"

"All I know is I'm supposed to deliver a message at this exact place, at this exact time." Ned hands him a pink slip of paper, a little wider than the post-its he's collected. "She said it's important. I read it but I don't get it."

"Thanks."

_I know you're confused, I can practically see your face. Turn around, dork. You invaded my space._

"What?" Peter looks at Ned who just shrugs.

"No idea, dude. It says to turn around." There's nothing behind him except lockers. "Oh and she said to give you this."

Ned fishes out a package of M&M's and it clicks. The pieces fitting together in his head. He's supposed to go to her locker. He grabs Ned's sleeve and tugs him along for the ride.

"How much did she tell you?"

"It's MJ. I got a bag of candy and a note shoved in my face and told where to go." Makes sense if you know the girl in question. “I wasn’t gonna question it.”

Peter doesn't have to enter her locker combo, there's a sliver of a yellow post-it sticking out through the slats. He grabs it as Ned huddles closer to read.

_Go back to the library...just kidding._

This one doesn't have a rhyme or any instructions but there's a small sketch of his Spider-Man mask. The bell rings before he can discreetly check his backpack. He has a lot of questions about when and how she snuck all these notes and little things without him noticing.

He knows before he ever leaves the school, bids a quick goodbye to his friend, and dips into an alley that his mask will hold another clue. The post-it at the bottom of his backpack is orange and catches his attention first. How did he miss that?

_The first night you held me, you didn't want to impose. Now your shit is all over my room because feelings arose._

_P.S. Burn this one or else._

He’s framing it. If it wasn't so true, he'd be a little offended though. It's not his fault he's forgetting stuff between kisses, lazy morning make-outs before their alarms go off, and then her hands shoving him out the window. He's going to tease her about the feelings line, she has to know he's not letting her get by with this without some teasing. He's pretty sure he's supposed to suit up and head to her place but before he can slide the mask on, another blue post-it falls out.

_This time bring your own clothes._

Peter makes a pit stop by his apartment. Grumbling when he checks the closet and his drawers. Most of his stuff has mysteriously gone missing in the time MJ has been sleeping over. She's a thief. The things he doesn't leave accidentally at her place somehow end up there anyway. She swears she doesn't take things but he knows.

     "May?" He's wrist deep in socks when his aunt appears in the doorway. "Have you seen my-"

     The pajama pants he's been looking for are folded neatly in May's hands, along with a shirt and a yellow note. When did MJ start planning this?

     "You just missed Michelle." He sighs as he takes the clothes and peels the note from the fabric. Of course he missed her. She's apparently three steps ahead of him on everything today and he's picking up the trail of crumbs. "She said to give you these and make sure you eat dinner."

     Not that he doesn't love this, he does, seeing how well she knows him just proves he's not the only one paying attention to every little detail. He's just reached the point of wanting to see her and ask what this is all about.

     "I'll grab a sandwich." He won't. He's too caught up in the notes, the thrill, the burning need to know what's going on. Peter reads the newest scrap of paper while May stands there smiling softly at him.

_Almost done, boy hero._

     "She calls you boy hero?"

     "May," he whines, knowing the smirk on her face means she's never letting him live this down.

     "It's cute." He doesn't want to be cute. "Peter, she's good for you. You've been more focused, you're happier, you're sleeping better and she's great. I like her."

     "How do you know when you're in love?" Well crap. He didn't really mean to blurt that out but now he's staring at May and she's staring back and his heart is racing at the fact this is the first time he's said that word out loud to someone who’s awake while thinking of the girl who wrote the note he's clutching. "Uh- I...no, no I mean it. How do you know, for sure, if it's real?"

     "It's different for every person." There's a two minute silence and he really should walk away, be happy with that small piece but he's not. He needs to know.

     "How did you know?" Something dark from loss and pain flickers across her face. He instantly regrets asking but then she smiles again. "Sorry, just, MJ makes me feel like I've never felt before and she drives me crazy sometimes but I can't imagine not having her or going back to being friends and I just-"

     "He made me laugh like no one ever has. There's a million reasons I could give you but to love someone is special and unique. There's no rule book or list of things to check off to know, Peter."

     "Oh. That makes sense, I guess." It's not really the answer he's been looking for. "When's the right time to tell someone?"

     "You'll know. Take your time, okay?" With a nod, he accepts the hug she offers with one arm and holds the clothes and note tight to his chest with the other.

     His heart is still beating a little too fast when he's swinging through Queens, thoughts on the accumulated notes in the bag strapped to his shoulder. He's confused, stuck in his head but he knows before he makes it to her window that this feels different today. There’s a note waiting on the glass.

_When you feel hungry and need what you crave, you’ll find me in the same room as the microwave_

It takes him five minutes to crawl through the window, change out of the suit, and toss his bag on the chair in the corner. The one that has her laundry and various other things piled on it. Peter’s been over many times but he’s never wandered around. He’s always stayed in her room.

He’s never met anyone in her family, she never mentions it so he doesn’t ask but on the way to the kitchen, he lets his eyes search for family photos. It strikes him as odd that all he finds on the walls are a couple of school portraits of MJ as a kid. He shouldn’t be nosy.

She’s pacing around the small table when he finds her, wringing her hands together. She’s wearing one of his shirts, the one he’s searched the entire apartment three times over for. Coincidentally, it’s the same one she told him she hadn’t seen the six times he asked. Her legs are bare and that’s definitely a pair of his socks covering her feet but it’s the scent of candles and the dim lighting that has him smiling.

“MJ?”

“Hey,” she smiles and he feels like gravity is failing him. “You got my notes.”

He’s been texting her about them and she’s ignored every single one so he knows she already knew that. The table is set for two, food already piled high on the plates.

“You told May to make sure I ate?”

“I knew you wouldn’t. So I made...pancakes. I didn’t have a lot of time.” Pajamas and pancakes sounds like the best date he’s ever heard of.

“The scavenger hunt was-”

“Stupid. Sorry, I’m new to the romantic thing.” Peter frowns when she shrugs a shoulder. It’s not stupid. Nothing she does is ever stupid and he doesn’t think twice about reaching for her, pulling her in until she’s wrapped in his arms.

He doesn’t say anything, just leans in to press his lips to hers in a soft kiss. He loves the notes, he loves the little sketch on one, the bag of candy, the pajamas he’s wearing now that she picked out. He loves how well she knows him, how some of her notes rhymed while others didn’t because she’s just weird. He kisses her again.

Because he loves the way she sighs, the way her mouth opens beneath his when the tip of his tongue touches her bottom lip. He loves that she’s in his shirt and there’s pancakes and candles and her hands press against his back, more insistent with each passing second. He loves that she’s awkward and strange, that she’s stealing his entire wardrobe one piece at a time.

He loves the way she pushes closer, how she tastes like tea and honey but smells of lavender. The way she pants when he drags his mouth over her jaw, down her neck, yeah, he really loves that.

“I love the notes, I love all of it.” It’s mumbled against her skin, imprinting the words, making her believe.

Her hair is a little wild when he pulls back, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths and he kisses her one more time, quick and with a smile. _I love you. I love you. I love you._ The words beat against his ribs, begging to be let out but he waits. The right time, May said he’ll know.

He holds her hand when they sit at the table, he tells her about running out of class with the worst excuse of food poisoning that has her snorting between bites of pancake and she tells him how she planned it all out with May and Ned last week. He’ll have to text Ned later about it because that’s not what his friend told him but for now, he has dinner with MJ and watches her face glow in the candlelight like he’s part of some cheesy rom-com she swears she hates.

She might say that but she’s the one who planned a scavenger hunt with a candlelit dinner as the prize and he’s never letting her forget it. He’s pretty sure most romantic dinners have a fancier dress code than pajamas but he doesn’t point that out.

After they eat and the table is cleared, candles are stored away and his belly is full, Peter finds himself back in her room. He’s more comfortable in these four walls, surrounded by her things and the books she piles up on random pieces of furniture. He’s tripped over books before while getting out of her bed and he shouldn’t be thinking about it because it’s too fast and too soon but he wonders what it’ll be like when the bed he stumbles out of is theirs.

“There’s one more note.” He turns to see her standing by the bed, a pen in her hand.

She sticks a post-it on the front of her shirt and Peter abandons the shelf he was rearranging - just to see if she’d notice - and walks over to her. The smile drops from his face when he reads the words, he swallows roughly and his hands clench.

_No time to slack, come on Peter, take your shirt back._

“M-MJ?” This isn’t what he came for, it’s not what he’s expecting but she meets his gaze with one just as serious. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to seduce you. If you want to. If not it’s okay, it’s just a-”

“No. I do. I just...um, I wasn’t expecting this.” He’s doing it all wrong. Standing awkwardly in front of her, hands in fists and he keeps dragging his eyes up to the ceiling because he’s way too tempted. “You really want to?”

“I’m not standing here with this note on my chest for no reason, Peter.” She’s agitated, he can tell but it’s the way she shifts to cross her arms that has him stepping closer. “This was stupid.”

“It’s not. It’s not stupid, please stop saying that.” He’ll give anything if she’ll stop saying that. “MJ, nothing you do is stupid. All of today was amazing, this is amazing and you’re beautiful.”

“Well you’re just standing there and I’m kinda opening myself up over here. Thought I made it pretty obvious.” When she waves her hand over the note that’s still taunting him from the middle of her chest, his fists unclench. “Forget it, we can just read or something.”

“No, wait, I’ve never done this before.” He’s a little desperate, his tongue too dry and he’s starting to sweat under her stare. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I’ve never done this before either! I was trying to be romantic or sexy or whatever but I did it wrong and it’s awkward and weird.”

“I don’t want any of that.” When her eyes widen and she takes a step back, he knows he fucked that right up. “No, no. I just mean I want you, MJ. I want _you_. I want the awkward and weird and you standing here with a post-it note stuck to you like that’s completely normal.”

He gets a little braver, reaches out to peel the note off. She’s serious about him, serious about this and he didn’t mean to upset her or make her think he isn’t just as serious. “Besides, I find your weirdness hot.”

“Watch it, mister. Everything you do is weird.” She’s smirking so he figures he’s doing something right and sets the note aside. He bunches the fabric at her hips and starts to slowly tug it up, staring at her face, watching every small reaction. “Oh, so now you want to take the shirt back?”

“Yeah, I think you’ve had it long enough.” He’s entirely unprepared to see her without it. “MJ...”

His face is flushed, he stumbles into her and his nose knocks against hers when his fingers get tangled in her hair. The apology is lost against her lips as the shirt falls to the floor. She’s right. Everything he does is weird but she’s kissing him in the next breath so maybe that’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a difficult chapter for me to write, not because of the fluff or implied big relationship step stuff. 
> 
> This was difficult because I’ve suffered through the longest round of depression I’ve ever had in my life and realized while writing this, that I had not written a single word in almost two years until I got so hyped for Spider-Man FFH that I just couldn’t contain it any longer. I stopped writing the day my father died out of guilt and hatred for myself. I have a degree in creative writing. This has always been my driving force to the point, I went to school for it and I didn’t touch it for over a year.
> 
> So when I say that I love these characters, that I love this whole little piece of the MCU what I’m really saying is that this isn’t just a movie, it’s not just fiction. I’ve had people make fun of me for seeing FFH multiple times and I don’t even care. If you find something that can help you be you again, that can help just a little bit to make you feel like you’re where you belong, don’t let anyone step on that.


	10. More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I wanted to jump on here and say the messages I received after the note on my last chapter were some of the most amazing and uplifting comments ever. I haven’t been able to reply individually yet, but just know your words are very appreciated.

     There are a lot of ways to wake up in the mornings. The sun being too bright, an annoying alarm, annoying sibling, the urge to pee, annoying significant other and etcetera. In Michelle's case, it's the annoying significant other. She doesn't want to be awake yet. They were up late exploring a new rather physical aspect of their relationship, there's no school today, and she's grumbling the second her brain registers being pulled across the mattress.

     It doesn't matter that he's warm or pressing a kiss to her temple, that his bare skin feels glorious against hers in the burn of sunlight peeking through the curtains. It's too damn early to have her eyes open. She refuses and buries her face against his shoulder. Until his palm smooths up her back, fingers slow and lazy and she might shift a little closer and consider opening one eye.

     "Someone's handsy." MJ wraps an arm around his waist. She might be talking, mumbling sleepily but it doesn't mean she's a fan of being awake.

     "Hey."

     "Shhh, I'm trying to sleep." If he wasn't so cute, if the rumble of his laugh didn't wipe her thoughts of all intelligence, she might just roll over and ignore him. But he is cute and her thoughts are wildly racing. "Why are we awake?"

     "Just thinking about stuff." The hand he's been trailing along her spine comes to a stop at the base of her neck. Fuck. His words make her stomach sink just a little.

     Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe he's about to tell her they shouldn't have taken such a big step and for some reason, that has her eyes opening and her heart aching more than her worn out muscles. Maybe he didn't like it. Maybe she isn't good at this. Maybe it was too awkward. But she loves that it was.

     She loves that it was a little weird, a lot awkward and completely new. She loves that he stumbled, didn't know what to say, where to put his hands because she didn't either. She loves that they both took their time, learning what they like, what they don't through cautious hands, blushing, and stuttering.

She adores the look he gave her when he asked if she was okay before he ever went any further. Both times. He can't take it back or her heart is going to shatter into pieces and she's going to have to pretend everything is fine. MJ must not be hiding it as well as she thought, her eyes are beginning to sting and his hand moves around to clear the wild strands of hair covering her cheek.

     "You okay?" It's the same thing he asked last night, the same soft tone laced with concern for her wellbeing.

     "Y-yeah." She doesn't believe it any more than he does when he turns on his side and rests his palm on her face.

     "What's wrong?" Of course he knows. He always knows too much. "If you didn't...like it, we don't have to-"

     "No! No, I did. I thought maybe you have regrets?"

     "No. None. At all." They probably should have talked that out before falling asleep, definitely before going in for round two but her chest feels lighter, the sting and burn lessens. "I was thinking about something May told me and couldn't fall back asleep."

     Michelle reaches for his wrist, wraps her fingers around to feel his pulse beat steady. She's seventeen years old and this stupid boy has her heart soaring in a way that makes her hope he stays forever. She loves him. The dorky smile, the dumb pun shirts, the way he gets so excited talking about Star Wars. The hero complex, how big his heart his, the way he drops the guard with her and she gets to see the trauma, the ugly underbelly when he clings to her after a nightmare.

     It doesn't scare her when he's raw and aching those nights. She's calm when he squeezes her a little too tight and she has to remind him that he has super strength. He's always quick to lighten his hold, to apologize, and she loves every bit of it. Every bit of him. 

     A smile takes over before she can blink. She really thought he was just a crush. Something that would pass with time but that's not how it feels anymore. He feels like home. The warmest hugs, the brightest days, the comfort of clean sheets after a shower or a warm cup of tea but infinitely better. He smiles back, soft eyes crinkling at the edges and she's never been more sure of anything or anyone in her life. Sex made her soft. Okay, maybe it's just him.

     "Just so you know, I'm never leaving notes like those ever again." She might but she's not about to let him in on all of her secret plans.

     "That's okay but I'm not going to stop switching out your bookmarks."

     "I know," she sighs, closes her eyes and breathes against his shoulder. "Sleep with me."

     "We kinda already-"

     "Shut up. Let me sleep." The grip on her tightens, the hand at her back strokes down then up and MJ hums as the world begins to grow fuzzy.

     "How long do I have?"

     "What?" The fog clears just enough for her to force her eyes open once again, brow furrowing in confusion.

     "To stay. When do I need to sneak out? I've never stayed this late before and I don't want to get you in trouble. We should get dressed, right? Because someone is probably-"

     "Peter, if you do not hush and let me go back to sleep, I'm kicking you out myself." She won't and the soft laugh he buries in her hair says he knows it. Maybe she liked it better when he didn't know she was all bark and no bite.

     She doesn't know if he ever falls back asleep but the next time she wakes, it's to the jerk of his body, the loud pounding on the door and the way he almost dumps her on the floor. She's tangled in a mess of blankets that he's tripping out of. The panic is clear on his face, comically wide eyes, paler than his usual pale and mouth hanging open.

     Another time and she would be laughing but the very male voice coming through her locked door has her panicking just a little too. Peter tosses a shirt at her and she shrugs it over her head before he's managed to even properly stand.

     "Michelle?"

     "Be out in a sec!" It's a little funny when Peter trips while trying to pull his suit on over the boxers. She drops her voice to a whisper, "Out the window, hurry."

     He's suited and has his bag slung over one shoulder before she can blink. It shouldn't be hot that he went from a warm and soft boy in her bed to a damn superhero in five seconds flat but it is. However, this isn't how she expected the rest of the morning to go. She thought they'd have a little more time but it seems she's now the girl sneaking a boy out of her room mid morning and hoping no one notices.

     The window is open and he's just about to climb out when he stops and rushes back over to her. His hands shove his mask up just enough to press his lips against hers in a quick kiss.

     "Go!"

     "Going."

He's gone before the next knock and MJ's left with a wide smile on her face when she notices the shirt she's slipped on is the same one he took off of her the night before. He's never getting it back. It's officially hers now.

_________________________

Being Spider-Man has taught Peter a lot of things. It comes with responsibility, he grew up quite a bit in a short period of time. He's seen more than his share of the toll it can take on others, on the very real possibility that it could kill him or someone else he loves. He knows that one all too well.

Going to space, fighting aliens, turning to dust then coming back five years later hadn't prepared him for teenage romance or falling in love. Having superpowers, saving people, saving the world or whatever you want to call it, had not prepared him for the fluttering in his chest and stomach every time he sees MJ or how soft her lips are against his. Not a single thing he's been through made any of this less exciting, terrifying, and unpredictable.

He's seated on the rooftop of his apartment building, mask pushed up under his nose as he takes another bite of a french fry. There's an ache in his chest as his thoughts drift to Tony Stark and the sacrifices made, distant but painful. The same suffocating feeling that led him to MJ's room on a night that seems so long ago. In the next breath, he's smiling and shaking his head.

Life is strange, ever changing as it morphs over time to become something no one ever plans or expects. He never planned to be a superhero, he never expected to be dating Michelle Jones. He never thought he'd lose another man he looked up to, another piece of his family. Peter certainly never considered the possibility that he'd have to rush out of MJ's room to avoid being caught in her bed. Shoving another fry in his mouth, he reaches for the phone he placed next to his thigh.

**_Hope I didn't get you in trouble or anything_ **

It's been a few hours, maybe he should have sent that sooner or checked in at least. He's still not the best at this relationship thing and his brain is pretty fried from last night and having to rush out of her room. He waits for the reply but it doesn't come.

He tries to distract himself with a bit of friendly neighborhood Spider-Man stuff so he's not overthinking it but by late afternoon he's checked his phone twelve times, sent her three more texts and had an entire conversation with Ned. Peter's a bundle of nervous energy by the time he crawls through his window and lets the suit drop.

He's dressed and more than a little sullen when he walks into the living room to find May lounging on the couch with popcorn and a movie playing. It's been awhile since he's spent time with her, his thoughts always elsewhere or his nights with MJ.

"Hey," she says, smiling and patting the cushion next to her. "Movie just started."

It's a Saturday, he's already seen his girlfriend, talked to Ned, and wore the suit for awhile so he drops next to his aunt with a long sigh. Maybe MJ had the right idea about sleep.

"I got caught at MJ's this morning. I think. I don't know but she won't text me back and I didn't want to get her in any trouble so now what if she's mad? I don't know if anyone knows I was there but she never talks about her family, I've never met anyone and-"

"Whoa, hey, slow down."

"She hasn't answered all day."

"Maybe she's distracted, I know someone else who forgets to answer all the time." It's the smile she gives that has him dragging his hands down his face and dropping his head back against the couch. "I'm just saying, don't jump to conclusions until you hear from her."

"I know."

"You guys seem pretty serious, I don't think she'd just ignore you."

"I'm in love with her." It takes him a second to realize the words that tumble out. A brief moment before his heart swells in his chest and he's sure it's going to crack his ribs and just explode. "She's just...amazing and I can't even find the right words to describe it. I don't think there are any words."

The look on May's face has his cheeks growing red. He's seen this look before. It's the bright proud smile and adoration in her eyes that has him sighing every time before she pulls him into a hug. He's learned to accept his fate and sure enough, in less than a minute her arms are winding around his shoulders.

He still hugs her back. He needs it to calm the storm brewing in his thoughts.

     "You're really growing up on me." She pulls back just to ruffle his hair. "Remember when you were little and terrified of thunderstorms, now you're over here with a girlfriend and sneaking out to be a hero."

     "May, come on."

     "You're a good kid, Peter. I’m just not sure I'm ready for you to be so grown." Sometimes, he’s overwhelmed by pretty much everything in life but moments like these, he knows he’s really damn lucky to have arguably the best aunt ever.

“We should get ice cream after your movie is over. I think we both could use some.”

“Ice cream before dinner?”

“Ice cream for dinner.” It’s a con he’s pulled before, several times and rarely does she fall for it but this time, she just shakes her head.

“Deal.” The last time she’d agreed to skipping dinner and going straight for dessert, they’d both been grieving, confused, a little too tired to handle the world anymore so they’d shared a tub of ice cream and watched dumb movies until they were laughing so hard they couldn’t breathe.

Peter spends the next ten minutes dodging questions about how the date with MJ went. There’s no way he’s ever telling his aunt how it ended or why he panicked as soon as someone knocked on her bedroom door. Some things have to remain private, boundaries exist. Although, the second his phone goes off back to back and he jumps for it, he thinks she might already have an idea.

He ignores the new wave of panic that sends rushing through his blood and swipes his thumb across the screen of his phone. His heart is racing before he ever reads the messages.

_Not in trouble. No one knows you were here or suspects a thing_  
_and don’t take selfies while you’re mid air!  
_ _I’m not peeling you off the pavement if you fall_

_**Stealth is my middle name** _

_Your middle name is Benjamin_

**_Let me have this_ **

He waits with a lovesick smile on his face, feet propped on the coffee table next to May’s. Actively avoiding her knowing smirk as he sends a quick emoji of a heart.

_Only if you agree that I planned the best date ever_

**_I’m not sure that’s a fair assessment bc I have several ideas for future adventures_ **

_In that case, we’ll just have to wait and discuss this matter at a later date_

**_Still rhyming I see_ **

_Shut up. You just called dates “adventures”_

Peter forgets about the worries, about the fact that he stressed all day over being caught in her room when the door was locked and he left before she ever unlocked it. He really should have known, he’s quiet, he’s stealthy.

**_We should go on an adventure Tuesday after school sounds a lot cooler than hey want to go on a date Tuesday_ **

_Yes_

**_To the adventure?_ **

_Do I have to say it_

**_Oh yes_ **

_Yes to the adventure_

Dating MJ has been an adventure in itself. They did everything kinda backwards, nothing is in order. He probably messed that all up by showing up outside her window close to a breakdown but Peter knows with every bit of him they’re just getting started. So for now, he sits with May and ignores the movie to send texts back and forth with Michelle. Relief that she isn’t in hot water or upset with him has his mood improving exponentially.

“Hey, May, can you help me with something for MJ?”

“She’s not mad then?”

“No. You were right, I should have waited instead of overthinking it.” He overthinks a lot of things, most of the time that’s when he needs MJ. She’s the one who calms him when his thoughts go rampant and he feels like he’s too close to the edge of some abyss he’ll never be able to crawl out of.

“So what’s the plan?”


	11. Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter’s planned adventure isn’t quite what MJ had in mind.

      To say Peter's idea didn't go according to plan would be a vast understatement. The after school Tuesday adventure never happened. The date he spent two hours going over with May to make sure everything was perfect, vanished right before his eyes. That was hours ago.  He doesn't know what time it is or how long it's been since he freed himself from the burning rubble. It's dark and everything hurts.

     All he knows is he needs to get to MJ, he needs to explain, to apologize. The taste of blood on his tongue makes his stomach churn. He manages to stumble and swing, taking short breaks to fall to his knees on various rooftops across Queens. He’s just trying to make it to her. He has to.

Covered in sweat, soot, blood and who knows what else, with every inch of his body aching or stinging, he finally slaps a hand against the familiar window. He grips it, gloved fingers stiff and aching as he lifts. Left shoulder screaming in protest when he crawls through, Peter briefly catches a glimpse of her as she helps drag him in.

Of all the graceful entrances he's made, this is not one. He lands in a thump, hands and knees digging into her rug and he can hear her, the worry in her words as she drops next to him. The softness of her hands pressing and pulling and everything is too much.

"M'sorry." He rolls to his back and before he can tug the mask off, MJ does it for him. "Sorry...about the-"

"Shut up, just...shut up."

He does for a second, watching her as she leans over. He can feel her hands skating over the suit and see that her eyes are frantic, searching. This isn't the first time he's crawled into her room with various wounds but it's probably the first time he's this badly injured.

"MJ, I-"

"You're bleeding and I'm mad so you don't get to talk right now."

"Oh, is that why I feel like shit?" She doesn't laugh, her eyes narrow at him and Peter reaches up to brush his thumb over her cheek. "I'm okay. Your hair...looks nice."

"You're bleeding out on my rug and clearly delirious. Take the suit off." She's serious, too serious so he does. He taps the emblem on his chest, he lets her peel the fabric of it off and only groans when her fingers pass over the flesh that's scraped raw down his side. "Sorry, I'm so sorry. I know that hurt."

He doesn't want her to apologize but the world is a little fuzzy and he can't figure out the words he wants to tell her. He stays still, watching her eyes fill, watching her disappear and come back. He could watch her forever, the sleek line of her neck, the curve of her jaw, the focus furrowing her brow. Except he can't. He can't because his eyes keep closing and she keeps calling his name.

"Peter, I swear if you-" He gently tugs the end of the braid hanging over her shoulder and doesn't hear the rest. 

___________________________

Michelle stands at the bathroom sink, rinsing the red and pink stained suds from her palms. This isn't exactly how she thought date night would turn out. She didn't really think she'd be stitching up her dumb superhero boyfriend while he's passed out on her floor. She reaches for the soap again, scrubs her hands one more time. There was so much blood.

Her lungs are burning, chest aching and raw with the thought of how this is different. This time it's different. This isn't a scrape, a puncture wound, or some bruised ribs. He's never passed out before, he's never barely made it through her window and just collapsed. She hurriedly dries her hands, swipes a rag over her face to erase the evidence of the tears she's shed and heads back to her bedroom without glancing in the mirror. MJ doesn't want to look at her reflection.

She watched the news, she saw everything. The moment the building collapsed, her heart had seized in her chest. She's never watching the news again when Peter is involved. It's too stressful. Sometimes it’s just better to not know and to stay hopeful.

     He's still in the same position she left him in when she closes the door and his body is so still it has her hands trembling once again but his chest moves with every breath. It's enough to have her rolling her eyes at the entire situation, grabbing a couple of pillows, and dropping down to her knees next to him.

Michelle presses her palm to his face, over his jaw and then she’s sliding her fingers to the back of his neck, lifting his head just enough to slide a pillow beneath. She doesn't really know what else she can do for him, so she stretches out on the floor at his side with a book.

     It's not comfortable. It makes her shoulder blades ache to lay on her stomach, to be propped up with a pillow and one elbow. She deals with the discomfort, the dull pain that comes to life in her back, and tries to pay attention to the book she grabbed from the stack six inches away.

     Fourteen pages in, she glances at him and the shoulder she did her best to mend and clean up. She's not a doctor and she almost called for an ambulance but what explanation could she have given? She has to trust he'll be okay, trust that his body will heal. Trust him. If she's being honest with herself, it's all really fucking weird to think about. People shouldn't be able to heal so fast but she's suddenly very grateful he can.

     By page twenty, she's not paying attention to the words she's reading and she can't even tell what's happening in the book, why, or who the characters are. She's too busy watching Peter every five seconds, making sure his chest is still moving. Michelle takes a moment to roll on her side in an attempt to ease the ache in the middle of her spine. The hesitation before she scoots closer to him only makes the tightness in her chest grow. She missed a spot of blood near his ear from the scrape near his hairline and her stomach flops to her toes when her eyes land on it.

     She's waging an internal battle with herself on if she should try to drag him up on the bed. The floor isn't exactly made for comfort, wood flooring and a cheap thin rug probably don't help with whatever is hurting him. She's not even injured and her body is starting to protest. However, he’s a lot of muscle and she’s not exactly known for bench pressing more than books.

     MJ gives up on reading when she feels him shift. The book lands with a thump somewhere above their heads the second he groans. She might worry about it being damaged later but at the moment, the only thing she cares about is him. His eyes don't open but she watches his face scrunch, lines crinkling his forehead.

     "Hey, Peter, you're okay," she doesn't know why she's whispering as she slides impossibly closer, hands moving to cup his cheeks. "I got you. Shh."

     His eyes flutter open and Michelle breathes hard. A heavy weight in her chest lifts, the relief spreading through her in an instant that’s almost too overwhelming. She’s never been so relieved.

     "MJ." It's soft, he's soft.

     "You've been out for a bit. I couldn't lift your ass so feel free at any time to get in bed. This floor is not-"

     "Like your pjs. Cute." Only he would find an old ratty T-shirt and shorts cute. Peter sits up, quickly, grabbing his side. His face scrunches in pain and Michelle pushes herself up on her knees to tuck an arm beneath his.

     "Hey, just an idea but maybe take it slow? I'll help." He's heavy against her but after a minute of stumbling and plenty of cursing, they're both on their feet. Being taller than him is a blessing in this exact moment and she's never been so thankful for those two extra inches than when he sways and she's able to steady him.

     "Your rug...I'm so sorry."

     "It's seen better days. I'll just throw it out or something." MJ doesn't want it anymore anyway. She doesn't want the reminder of this night, doesn't want to think of it every time she looks over.

     "I'll help you clean it. I promise."

     "Peter, you can't even stand up straight." He can't. He's hunched over, leaning too heavily on her, limping and as soon as they make it to the bed, he sinks down. He's a mess and she feels like her heart is about to burst.

     "Bed's nice. Really nice."

     "You're still half delirious." And still in enough pain that he's wincing and groaning trying to stretch out. He seems to have forgotten she usually gets in first to avoid crawling over him.

     As soon as he's settled, she takes the sliver of mattress at his side and leaves the lamp glowing. The edge of the bed has never been her favorite but she's not about to jostle him around in an attempt to crawl to the vacant space near the wall. Michelle doesn't want to cause him any unnecessary discomfort and given the colors all down his left side and the shoulder that's now crudely stitched, it's probably better this way.

"I missed our adventure."

"S'okay. You saved lives. That's more important." She lets her cheek rest on his chest, and wraps an arm around him. She moves her hand lower, to his hip, to the unmarked skin and hopes she's not making anything worse. "I know what I signed on for and I'm never going to be upset that you choose to help others. That being said, I'm pretty damn mad at you for not calling after."

"Oh, yeah, I could have done that."

"Yep." She'll give him a little leeway since he clearly wasn't capable of rational thinking at the time but she's still mad.

"I'm sorry."

"I told May you're here. I also told her that her nephew is a dumbass." The soft laugh he lets out turns into a groan. "She agreed with me."

He hums, eyes closing and she feels the lazy kiss he presses against the top of her head. This isn't the date she wanted, it's definitely not the date he planned either but this is what they have. The few hours of silence, of tiredness, of clinging to each other because he's hurt and she's not exactly okay either. He dozes in and out with his fist gripping the back of her shirt and she keeps her eyes wide open.

He twitches in his sleep, mumbles incoherently, and then he's awake again in less than an hour. He comments on her hair as his eyes fight to stay open and she reassures him with a smile, telling him to sleep. MJ runs her fingers through his soft locks, strokes her thumb over the shell of his ear and he’s back asleep.

The second time he’s awake, half out of it, it’s her eyes that are so pretty and she huffs a laugh against his cheek, pressing her lips to his skin. The third time, it’s how smart she is without being a jerk about it and Michelle drops her forehead to his and tells him to just shut up for five minutes. He’s out in maybe two.

It's different each time but equally ridiculous given the state he's in. Hours tick by and it's the same routine. Twitching, mumbling, random words or praise when he wakes just enough to realize she's still up. She can't sleep but he's resting and that's what matters so she stays still or creeps silently when she needs a drink or bathroom break. This isn't the all-nighter she had in mind.

MJ stays by his side or doesn't stray too far just in case she's needed. Eventually, she pulls the blankets over them and tries to get comfortable. He stirs enough to roll on his side, groaning softly, eyes cracking open when he faces her. He still smells of smoke but she scoots closer anyway.

"Hi."

"Hey,” she says back, smile tugging the corners of her lips. “Surprised the first thing out of your mouth wasn’t a compliment this time.”

The frown she gets would be adorable if his bloodied and stitched shoulder wasn’t in her line of sight. She waits for him to say something, expecting it to be more of the same.

“M’sorry to disappoint.”

“How do you feel?”

“Not so great. You’re not sleeping?” It’s a pointless inquiry when it’s obvious he knows. “You’re gonna be miserable in class.”

“We’re skipping school, dork.”

“We are?”

“Yep, because you’re not healed and I’m not letting you out of my sight for at least a day. Maybe two.” There’s a beat of silence as she narrows her eyes, warning him not to challenge this decision.

Her mind is made up and there’s no way she’s backing down on it. They’re playing hooky today, maybe tomorrow too.

“Can we get milkshakes?” His eyes are open wider than they have been since he crawled through the window, brighter too. “Maybe kiss a lot. Kissing makes everything better. It’s science.”

Michelle slides her fingers through the waves curling around his ears, leaning closer to nudge her nose to his. She breathes him in, relishes that he’s coherent enough to drag his hand up her back and rest the tips of his fingers against her nape.

“Peter,” she sighs, pressing his name against his lips. “Really scared me.”

His apology is mumbled, cut off with a tender kiss as her hands tremble.

________________________

The mood in Peter’s room is strange, uneasy static crackling in the space between them. Things have been off since they woke in Michelle’s bed, dressed and headed to his place. It started when she tossed him some clothes he’d left over and told him to hurry. He’s not a hundred percent better, not even hours later as she sketches and he scrolls on his phone. She doesn’t know how long the whole healing thing takes for him anyway.

She’s tired of his sighing, of the way he taps away at his phone and the thunk of the tiny bouncy ball he’s decided to toss at the ceiling every few minutes. It feels all wrong. This doesn’t feel like a lazy day with him, she knows what those are like and this is not it.

This is tension, lack of talking, she hasn’t said more than two words and he seems to have given up now as well. He sighs again, agitated this time and she grips the pencil tighter. It’s a rubber band pulled taught between them, ready to snap. When he tosses the ball harder, the sound of it louder, it does.

“Peter, I swear if you throw that ball one more time, I’m tossing it out the window and you can go fetch.”

“Why are you upset?”

“Me? I’m not the one sighing over some unseen crisis and taking it out on the ceiling.” She kinda is. It’s why the lead of her pencil has broken three times in the last hour. She’s pressing too hard, unfocused and frazzled.

“MJ, you barely slept. You threw clothes in my face, pulled away when I tried to hold your hand at breakfast with May, and haven’t said a full sentence until now.”

“You woke up and acted like you’re fine!” She tosses the pencil down hard enough it ricochets and hits the floor. The sketch is shit anyway, the lines too dark and shaky.

“I am fine!” He’s on his feet in a second and she joins him, toe to toe. “MJ, I’m okay. We were okay. What’s wrong with us?”

“Nothing.” Maybe everything, she doesn’t know. “It’s nothing.”

It’s not nothing. It’s the icy fear of losing him filling her veins, twisting around in her stomach to the point she feels like she’ll puke if she eats or drinks or even breathes too deeply. She woke to his face, to his breath hot against her cheek, and she still can’t stop the dream from flashing in her mind. The cold, the way he stopped moving, his eyes so lifeless. She still sees red staining her hands when she closes her eyes, can feel it slick between her fingers and suddenly, there just isn’t enough air.

She steps back, ready to retreat. He shuffles closer and reaches for her hand. The sharp tone is all but gone when he speaks, “It’s something and I’m really sorry.”

“I’m just tired and on edge. I thought you might die or something.” She tries to play it off with a shrug of her shoulder but the crack in her voice gives her away. It tells the secrets she tried to keep. “Dreamt about it and you did.”

“Hey, wait,” he reaches for her face, palms warm against her skin. “MJ, I’m right here. I’m mostly better, not even in pain.”

It’s an obvious lie but she lets it slide and wraps her arms around him, hugging him tight. Only loosening her hold when he fails to hide a soft groan and still, he presses closer. Having a superhero as a boyfriend isn’t as glamorous as it sounds. In fact, it downright sucks sometimes but she can’t imagine being with anyone else. She really freaking hopes this gets easier or she gets better at dealing with emotions.

He tugs her hair playfully, nuzzles his face into her neck and the tension that’s had her muscles rigid and her spine stiff disappears. The last tendrils of fear wrapped around her chest give way and she finally takes in a deep breath. She needed this, him. She needed the day off and the time to process.

“I think we should get those milkshakes. Might even kiss you, in the name of science.” Despite her suggestion, neither of them let go for a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Happy Spider-Man Day! I had to post, obviously. Anyway, this fic is taking over my life but I have several more planned as well.


	12. If Only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter helps MJ deal with a bad day the same way she's helped him.

     It's become normal for them to hold hands in school, to walk the halls with their fingers linked and palms pressed tight. At first a few people stared or whispered, Peter didn't mind, but one look from Michelle shut most of them up. He remembers being worried she wouldn't hold his hand after an incident with Flash but it's become second nature. She steps up next to him and her fingers just reach for his. Simple, as easy as breathing.

     They walk to classes hand in hand, spend lunch with their shoes touching or MJ wraps her leg around his, and he sits next to her at decathlon. Sometimes he sneaks his hand to her thigh beneath the table when she's mid sentence just to hear her stumble over words, just to see the way her eyes widen and how she tries to recover when their teammates ask if she's okay. However, he's realized that's not so fun when it's her hand on his thigh and he's the one having difficulty breathing or finding words. All of this has been the new normal for a couple of months.

     Peter knows they're closer than they've ever been. She was just over for dinner with May the night before, let him hold her hand in front of his aunt and even curled into him on the couch during a movie night with Ned. Which is why he doesn't understand today.

     She's let him stand close but her hand avoids his or feels tense when he manages to catch her off guard and thread their fingers together. She never pulls away, she just seems to be on another planet today. At lunch, she looks everywhere but at him and when he nudges her foot playfully and catches her eyes, MJ doesn't even smile. Not that she smiles all the time but he usually gets a smirk or an eyeroll. She makes conversation with him or with Ned but there's something off and it has him on edge.

     So he waits, giving her time. He knows to let her breathe, to give her the option to open up before he asks. Usually, this works out and she'll come over to spill everything or they spend the night tangled together and he breaks the silence on it. He's fully intending to wait. Until he notices the shaking, her fingers trembling around a pen and Peter is done waiting her out.

     "You okay?" He asks at the end of a class they're both acing, knowing he can't somehow hurt her grade by distracting her in the last five minutes of note taking. She's already distracted by something anyway.

     "I'm okay." It's a lie if he's ever heard one. "Maybe."

     "MJ, you've been off all day. What's wrong?"

     "Can we get out of here? Just go somewhere?" The bell will ring in a few minutes, so he nods and reaches for her hand. She doesn't tense this time, just gives a soft sigh and grips his fingers tight.

     The moment class is over, he grabs their stuff before she can and tries not to overthink it too much when she lets him. Their hands are intertwined again in seconds. It eases the stress he's been feeling all day, but she's still too quiet as they walk the halls.

     Peter leads the way, unsure of where they're going or why or even if he's heading in the right direction. They end up behind the building they were just inside, hidden between brick and a dumpster when MJ stops. She looks at him for a second and then up to the edge of the roof.

     "Can you take me up there? With like...webs or something? Hell, I'll settle for wall crawling too just get me out of here."

     "You want me to-"

     "Yes." So he does. He lets her wrap herself around him, whispers to hold on tight before pushing off the ground and letting himself stick to brick. Her fingers dig in and he can feel her heart pounding.

     It's racing in seconds, beating rapidly when she curses against his ear while peeking over his shoulder. He pauses only once, to make sure she's okay, to make sure no one is around because he won't be able to explain how he's stuck to a building with MJ clinging to his chest. Probably would be easier if he'd asked her to piggyback instead but he still moves efficiently, careful not to push her into the wall.

     It might be amusing that she clings as he climbs, he's smiling the second her nose rubs against his neck but it drops when they reach the top. He tries to lift her up first, but she tightens her hold. He can't crawl any further with her attached to him. She doesn't let go, her legs tighten around his hips, her arms clinging to his shoulders.

     "Hey, you okay?"

     "No."

     "I won't drop you, I promise." Another time, he might pretend to but not today. "We're at the top. MJ, just scoot back."

     He grips the edge of the roof, pushes higher till his hips nudge hers and she finally realizes he's trying to push her back onto the ledge. He doesn't really want her to let go either but she does, carefully easing back till her thighs are safely planted and her feet dangle.

     Peter pulls himself up next to her, twisting around to let his legs drape over the side of the building. He tries to reach for her hand, but she grips the ledge instead, eyes wide and staring down at the ground. His palm presses to her lower back, thumb rubbing back and forth against her shirt. A few months ago, he wouldn't have thought this was possible, to touch her this way, to carry her up the side of a building, to know how warm she is when she sleeps, how her lips taste.

     He's just about to ask if she's okay for the third time when she turns to him and wraps her arms around his neck. He lets her, he'd let her do just about anything and before he can blink, she's crawled from the edge to his lap. Her legs winding around his waist, ankles crossing behind his back as she presses closer. There's a moment he hesitates, a moment he thinks about how she's exposed and they're right on the edge of a building and if she moves the wrong way she might fall.

     But he won't let her. His arms lock around her, to keep her still and safe, to hold her in ways nobody else ever has. With one hand rubbing up her back, lips against her ear, Peter can feel the tension draining. He hugs her tighter.

     "Hey," he presses a kiss above her ear, if her hair was down he'd tangle his fingers in it but it's pulled back. "Not that I don't love this, I do. I really do-"

     "You would love having me in your lap while dangling off a building."

     "That's not what I meant." Although, he's not complaining about that either.

     "Just don't let go, okay?"

     "I won't." He doesn't. She shifts against him, pressing as close as they can possibly get with the height difference. It's uncomfortable until she wiggles further back on his thighs and rests her cheek against his. "You were shaking. In class, your hands were shaking."

     "There's stuff with my dad going on, got a new job starting tonight, just a lot right now. Too much." She's never mentioned her family like this, not once. "I feel like I'm suffocating today and it sounds stupid, I'm sorry."

     "No, it doesn't sound stupid, MJ." He doesn't know about her family. Peter's always felt like she'll open up when she's comfortable but judging by the way she grips him, tight and shaky, there's something there.

     "Okay."

     "You don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to but I'm here. I'm glad you got the job, you're gonna be amazing." A job he only heard about twice but he's not going to make her feel bad, not when she's holding onto him like he's the only thing keeping her grounded. Maybe he is.

     There's been more than a few instances where he's held her to keep himself sane, to stay away from the ledge, to ease back from a tipping point that'll catapult him into darkness. Their entire relationship stemmed from one of those moments. He's content to brush his lips over her ear, her cheek, and trail his fingers up her spine till she's easing her hold on him, breathing steady.

     "Thank you," she murmurs the words softly against his jaw, before straightening her back, pulling away just enough to see his face. "For all of this, being patient when I'm not always the easiest person to be around."

     "Always." He keeps the  _I love being with you_ to himself and tilts his head back to meet her eyes instead of her chest. "Not that I don't really enjoy the position we're in, but we're right on the edge and someone might see."

     "The only person who comes to this side of the building is Phil. He knows to keep his mouth shut and he owes me."

     "Should I be concerned you know one of the custodians on a first name basis?" 

     "You got something against Phil?" She smiles, a real one. A smile he's wanted to see all day, a brightness that chases the shadows from her gaze. 

     "Hi," Peter whispers, pressing his fingers into the curve of her back. 

     "Hey." 

     "Feeling better?"

     "Yes. Do you think May would mind if I crash with you for a few days?" She doesn't say anything more, but there's something more than nonchalance behind the shrug of her shoulder. She doesn't want to go home. "I could just come over after I get off work."

     "You're welcome over any time."

     "That's because May loves me." She isn't the only one but Peter keeps that to himself too. It's not the right time for confessions. "More than you sometimes."

     He leans up to nip at her chin instead, warmth spreading through his chest when she laughs and slides her hand into his hair. He forgets to breathe for a second. His eyes close and suddenly, it's not her chin against his lips, it's her mouth. 

     Her fingers tug at his hair, tilting him back as her lips move over his. Peter follows her lead. She presses closer, he holds on tighter, and then her mouth opens and he's drowning in her. 

_____________________________

     It's nearing one in the morning when Michelle moves away from Peter's desk and slides into his bed. She's left the light on for him. The last few hours she's spent on the couch with his aunt, talking about him. Okay, not only him but she can't wait to see the look on his face when she tells him she knows all the embarrassing shit from his childhood. Honestly, it's his fault for not being around to control the narrative. 

     She adores May, she knows how lucky Peter is to have someone always on his side, always looking out for him. The ache in her chest caused by her own father's angry words has eased to a bearable twinge, soothed by a woman who isn't even her family. 

     She pulls the blanket over her legs, sighs against the pillow that smells like her dumb hero and smiles. She'd almost turned around and went home when the door opened and May told her that he wasn't back yet. It would have been easy.

     Except his aunt had tugged her through the doorway and into a hug before she could make an excuse and ditch. It was a little stilted and awkward at first but quickly settled. May always knows how to make her feel welcome. 

     So she stayed and now she's in his bed, curled beneath the covers with no regrets. It was nice to chill out with his aunt, learn new things about him while being able to openly talk about his superhero thing. Michelle's never been the best at talking or relating but the freakin' Parkers are bringing it out of her. 

     She's somewhere between awake and dozing, treading along the realm of sleep when the window opens and she hears him crawl through. By the time she turns to look over at him, he's already out of the suit. 

     "Started to think I was having this sleepover by myself tonight." 

     "Burglary over on...wow." He stands there, in a pair of plaid boxers with his mouth hanging open as he rakes his eyes over her. 

     "Wow?" 

     "Sorry, just pretty cool to climb in my own window and you're here." The dopey grin is enough to make her toss a pillow at him. "Hey! I'm keeping this now. You won't have a pillow."

     It won't matter if he does, she'll just use him as her pillow either way. He heads for the bathroom cradling it to his chest, leaving her chuckling after him. As soon as she hears the door close, she's on her feet and grabbing the discarded suit from the floor. How he ever kept his identity secret is beyond her. 

     Carefully, she checks for rips, blood, anything that might indicate he's been injured at some point during the night or last night. Thankfully, there's nothing. He's fine. She knows he is, he didn't collapse or groan or even show a hint of discomfort. He's good. She just needs the extra proof sometimes.

     She's in the middle of folding the suit when he pokes his head in, toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth. The pillow he'd confiscated flies through the air and lands on the bed. He mumbles something she can't understand then he's gone before she can even ask what the hell he just said. 

     Michelle shakes her head, reaching for a drawer to stash his suit in for the night. It'll be amusing to watch him hunt for it tomorrow. She opens the top one, expecting underwear and socks but it's empty. 

     "Not that drawer." Peter rushes in, toothpaste smudged on his bottom lip, and pushes it closed. "Uh that's...I just have something for you there."

     "No you don't. It's empty." She shoves the suit in his hands, knowing he's going to toss it in the closet and leave his mask on the desk. He does just that. 

     "Um...yes I do." 

     "Peter, I just saw the entirety of that drawer and it's bare." Unless this thing he has for her is invisible then she's absolutely positive there's nothing in there. "You have a little something..."

     She reaches up to wipe the toothpaste off his lip, smiling softly. This complete dork has her wrapped around his finger and he has no idea. He smiles back, palm coming up to rest on her cheek. 

     "MJ...I cleaned the drawer out for you."

     "For me?" She doesn't get it, not at first, not until his eyes soften and he ducks his head, smile growing. 

     "I thought you could use it...for your stuff." Her heart seizes in her chest. "You're here a lot now, and you leave clothes so I just-"

     "You're giving me a drawer for my clothes?"

     "You asked to stay a few days, I really just thought it would be easier and-" 

     She doesn't give him a chance to finish, her mouth is on his. A soft, firm kiss that has him stumbling into her, hands falling to her hips. This dork, the absolute mess of Peter Parker, is giving her a drawer. 

     A piece of his home, becoming hers. She's already emotional today, already feeling a bit raw after talking with May for a few hours about a lot of different things, how to deal with the fear and anxiety of Peter being in danger being one of them. Now her chest is bursting with warmth, flooding her body all the way down to her toes.

     "Peter," she sighs his name against his lips. He doesn't know what he's done, he has no idea that she's never really belonged anywhere, never fit. Not at school, not at home. She's never been needed or wanted enough for people to put in the effort. "Fuck, Pete."

     "You don't like it? It's okay if you don't want to use it."

     "Shut up, I love it. Thank you." 

     "You're welcome. I can't take all the credit...May helped me come up with the idea but it's yours." She fits here with him and his quirky aunt who apparently gives him dating advice.

     The same aunt who made her feel at home, completely comfortable even when Peter wasn't around to be a buffer. They've both made her feel welcome, every time, but this doesn't feel the same. This feels like a formal invitation into their lives, a permanent placement in their home. 

     He doesn't know he's just given her something she's always yearned for. She might tell him, soon. For now, she reaches for his hand, threads their fingers and tugs him to the bed. They fall in a heap of limbs, hushed whispers, and soft kisses. 

     His nose rubs over hers, hand against her back as they roll till they're comfortable. Face to face and hearts racing. Michelle kisses him again, lingering this time. An attempt to show him just how much he means to her, just how much she adores him.

     "I've never fit anywhere before. With people. That sounds weird but I'm just trying to say that you just gave me a drawer and maybe I'm making it out to be bigger than it is...I don't know."

     "You fit here, MJ."

     "Yeah, I do." He doesn't push for more, doesn't ask for a better explanation. 

     "How was work? I swung by a few times, it looked busy." Of course he did. She's not even surprised. 

     "I spilled iced coffee on someone so I don't really want to talk about it." 

     She flicks his ear as he buries a laugh against her shoulder but then she laughs right along with him, the stress of the day slipping away with every second that passes. He's becoming her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this chapter, I had a lot going on personally. I FINALLY have a computer again!


	13. Between Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MJ takes a sick day with Peter.

     It's weird to think about life sometimes, to realize how a certain thing wouldn't be a thing at all if a specific moment hadn't happened. Choices set off chain reactions, shape people into who they are. She's never really thought too deeply about the way of the universe. Michelle's logical, rational, and believing things just work out how they're supposed to isn't logical at all. She sticks to facts, things she can explain with evidence.

     Life hasn't always been kind. It never is. Everyone has shit they have to deal with, things they have to overcome or crawl their way out of. Maybe  _that's_  just the way of the universe. She wouldn't know, nobody would. Maybe it's the cold medicine making her overthink it. Or the throbbing at the base of her skull. 

     However, she knows she wouldn't be on Peter Parker's couch nursing a cold in her pajamas on a Saturday morning if he hadn't knocked on her window seeking solace. They might have made it here eventually but that moment sparked the chain of events that led to the soles of her socked feet pressing to his thigh.

     It led to the way he sits with his arm draped over the knees she's resting her sketch pad on as he asks a plethora of questions about drawing techniques, various mediums of art, and if she's ever considered selling her work. She hasn't. It led to them being comfortable, being together. To soft kisses, lingering touch.

     So perhaps, there's something to the whole line about fate, about things working out but she's absolutely not about to believe it has nothing to do with all the choices - the evidence - they made to get here. For now, she sits with her back to the arm of the couch, studies the curve of his jaw as if she doesn't already have it memorized and smirks. It's fun to sketch him when he's fully aware of it.

     "Are you sure this is my good side?"

     "You don't have a bad side, hush."

     "Good to know." He's teasing, lips curving in a sly smile. "You don't either."

     He curls his fingers around her knee, rubbing his thumb over her skin in a way she tries to tell herself isn't distracting. It is distracting. She might be thinking of forgetting the sketch altogether to take advantage of being alone with him. Cold be damned, they can share germs. Not like she wasn't burrowed against his side and drooling on his shoulder this morning.

     He shifts a little closer, smile still beaming on his face. Michelle pushes her toes into his thigh, sniffling in a way she knows is  _so_  not attractive. Her heart still does that stupid thing it does when he looks at her, when his gaze is bright, untroubled. He's relaxed and she's feeling better than she has since the mess with her dad started. It's enough. 

     "If you'd sit still for five minutes I'd finish this a lot faster."

     "We've been sitting forever." It's been half an hour and he's the one who asked to do this. 

     "You insisted."

     "I take it back. You're sick." He leans over, the arm resting on her leg moves. "We can be lazy."

     The fingers he's been rubbing over her knee are suddenly tucking her hair behind her ear and MJ bites her lip to hide the smile threatening to take over. The sketch loses her attention, the shading beneath his eye becomes unimportant the moment his thumb rubs over her jaw. 

     "Peter," she feigns exasperation. "I can't finish this if you don't sit still and keep your hands to yourself."

     "We both know that's a lie. You have other sketches of me and I didn't pose for any of those." If they weren't dating, she might be embarrassed he knows that. Her face still feels warm.

     "I can make this sketch ugly."

     "You just said I don't have a bad side." He doesn't.

     "I will give you one." She won't.

     "Let's take a break." The dull throb in her head is the only reason she gives in and sets the sketch aside. It has absolutely nothing to do with the kiss he leans over her legs to press against her cheek. Nothing at all.

     She's in a sneezing fit before she can warn him to back away. As if waking up with chills, body ache, snot dripping wasn't sexy enough. He lingers close and hands her tissues, closer than she would, rubbing her arm till she slumps back against the couch. 

     He's sweet, pulling the blanket around her shoulders, making sure her hair is out of her face while she knows she resembles a red-nosed reindeer. She'd almost snuck out to go home, not ready to let him see her like this but he'd woke the second she tried sneaking out of his bed.

    So she swallows the embarrassment, says nothing as his hands slide beneath her knees to straighten her legs over his lap. He urges her to sink down into the cushions so she does. Her body aches, she feels like shit and maybe, she's been a little grumpy.

     "It's just my dad. At home. With me. Uh, just my dad and I." He didn't ask and she's not sure why she's telling. She's never talked about it before. 

     "MJ, you don't have to-"

     "Yes, I do. He's not the greatest dad in the world. We don't really get along, he's difficult but he isn't the worst either. I don't really remember my mom or what she was like." 

     The cold is fogging her brain, might be the meds, but his hand is so warm when he threads their fingers together so she keeps going.

     "We had a pretty big fight, he's the type to drag it out or make it worse so I just needed to be somewhere else. Thank you for letting me crash here for a little bit."

     "I'm sorry, I didn't know." There's no way he could have but she refrains from teasing. The moment is too serious. Too important. 

     "Every time I come here and I see you with May, I wish I had something like that."

     "I'll share. The embarrassing moments you can just have her, all yours." A smirk appears on his face and she laughs till she coughs. "You sure you're going to be okay?"

     "I feel like shit."

     "We could nap."

     "You're not tired." He's been brimming with energy since he woke up and Michelle's been completely drained. She knows she's not great company today, but he's still been with her, making sure she's okay.

     "You could nap and I'll...be here."

     "Peter, we can go out. It's a cold. Or you can go be Spidey. You don't have to stay."

     "I-I know. I just want to." He's already made her a cup of tea, provided medicine that has her drowsy, and pulled out three boxes of tissues. While it's nice to have someone around, she's used to being on her own. 

     "Look, boy hero, I'm sick. I look bad, I feel bad. I want to just lie here and that's boring and not how you should be stuck spending a Saturday."

     "We'll find something to do."

_____________________________

     Something becomes a card game as they sit facing each other on opposite ends of the couch. It's high stakes by round three. An entire bag of gummy bears is up for grabs. Peter doesn't really want it, he'll give it to her even if he wins but it's the fact she told him she'd beat him again. She's already won the first two rounds. He needs a victory or he's never going to hear the end of it.

     "Well?" He's waiting, impatient. Her eyes narrow. MJ has her cards held close to her face, covering the red of her nose. 

     "You're a little shit, Peter Parker." She tosses him two cards. 

     "That would sound a lot more menacing if you weren't congested." He's feeling brave, a little cocky from being in the lead. "Do you have any aces?"

     "Go fish." The snark is back, the tilt of her lips that he really just wants to kiss. 

     He reaches over to draw a card instead, his fingers hover over the deck. He looks at her again, his own gaze narrowing to lock on hers. It shouldn't be cute that she sniffles loudly, that her hair is now in the messiest bun he's ever seen, or that she keeps rubbing her nose and he's sure it's sore by now. Somehow, it is cute. 

     It's distracting. It's definitely the reason she steals the lead again in less than ten minutes. He's determined to win no matter what it takes. So when she asks if he has any eights, he glances at the three in his hand.

     "Go fish," he says, eyes on the cards. She doesn't move a muscle. "I don't have any."

     "You're lying." 

     "I would...never do that." Except he is doing that and she's shaking her head at him. Then wincing, clearly forgetting the headache she's been battling.

     "Cheating for a bag of candy." It's not for the candy at all but she's grinning at him, dazed and the circles under her eyes make him want to forget the game to snuggle up with her. "I'm disappointed in you Spider-Man. I expected better from a masked hero."

     She sneezes before he can comment so he passes her the tissues.

     She's a little grumpy today but he can't fault her for that. It's obvious she doesn't feel well. If the sneezing, the coughing, the overall appearance didn't give it away, her voice would. 

     "This is disgusting but I can feel the drainage in my throat right now and I want to throw up." She's right. That is disgusting but she laughs for a second, just one second before blowing her nose and Peter feels like his heart is about to set sail.

     He tries not to overthink her presence, the fact that she's stayed for three days, or that he woke to her trying to sneak out just because she's not feeling well. Honestly, he really does try but it's there anyway, bouncing around in his mind as she apologizes. 

     There's nothing special about today. It's just a Saturday in the middle of the month, and MJ is sick, on his couch, in pjs with a blanket around her shoulders. She's surrounded by tissues, they're playing a kids card game, and he's knocked on his ass by the sight of her. 

     "Are you gonna hand them over or what?" MJ asks, wiping her nose and crumpling the tissue in a ball. 

     He's gonna tell her no, he's going to end the game and pull her close. She likes to cuddle, and he likes that she likes it. So cuddling would be good while she doesn't feel well. That's the plan. Until she sniffles loudly and his lips part and everything spills out.

     "I love you." His heart races as soon as the words leave his mouth. She drops her cards. His stomach drops with them. This isn't the right time... _is there a right time?_ But it's out and he can't shove it back in.

     She has his gaze locked with hers, has his palms sweating and his lungs aching for air. Her mouth opens, closes, and now Peter feels like he's the one about to throw up.

     "You...what?"

     "Um, I-I love you, MJ." It's true, might as well just stand his ground. 

     She doesn't say anything, just knocks the cards to the floor and launches herself across the couch. Straight into him, her arms wrapping around his neck and he loves her. He loves this. He loves the way she hugs him tight and the heat of her body against his. 

     He breathes her in, pressing closer. Silence settles but he doesn't need anything more than her heated breath against his cheek. He doesn't care that it's because she can't breathe through her nose. He's more than happy with the press of her lips to his in the next moment. 

     The fear he's had about letting those words slip out disappears when her hands cup his face. He leans back in when she backs away, chasing her mouth to catch her lips again. Just one more taste, one more kiss. She breaks it with a soft laugh.

     "You would say that to me when I have snot running down my face." 

     Peter bumps his nose to hers. "You're snot free." 

     "For the record, I would have won that round too."

     "No, I totally had you." He didn't but they'll never know. He could have made a come back. He's just going to believe it would have been his win.

     She's kept her distance until now, holding his hand, sitting a foot or more away. But now she's close and he doesn't let go. He's not sure how they go from kissing, to lying on the couch, neither bothering to pick up the mess they've made of cards.

     However, he's in no rush to move away. He couldn't if he wanted to, okay well he could. He can easily lift her but he doesn't. He'd be crazy to move her when she's sprawled over him, cuddled against his side.

     It's when she nuzzles closer, feverish but alert, that Peter slips his hand up to her nape, presses a kiss to her temple. 

     "Peter?"

     "Yeah?" He can feel her heartbeat, the way her lungs expand when she sucks in a deep breath. 

     And then she steals his.

     "I love you back." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on twitter if you want @ mjheartspeter
> 
> Sorry for the slight delay, I own a small business so that takes the majority of my time but thank you guys so much for the comments and reads on this. You've been amazing and so nice to me.


	14. Intertwine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares, fluff, showers, and unexpected interruptions
> 
> Peter learns a little more about MJ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mild panic attack, mentions of alcoholism

     Some nights he wakes in a cold sweat, tears streaming and sitting straight up before he's even opened his eyes. His chest aches as if it's been ripped apart, lungs on fire when he gasps for air. On those nights, like this one, Peter feels the warmth of hands on his shoulders and face before he can focus on what's happening. 

     "You're okay. You're with me." He hears the words, feels them wash over but his heart still pounds loud and unsteady against his ribs. "Peter, look at me."

     He does. For a second he can't focus and she's a blur. His vision clears when she leans closer. MJ. It's always MJ here with him. Except for the times when he's alone and she's not and then he's panicking. Always panicking.

     "Peter, breathe."

     He does his best to listen, to try. Sucking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly when she crawls into his lap. Another breath and her hands settle. One on his shoulder and the other on his cheek. 

     "Good. Now look around for me. Where are we?"  

     He'd protest but she doesn't give him the chance. She presses her fingers against his jaw, steady and sure, turning him. He pulls his eyes from hers, letting her be the guide. Another breath and he's taking in the disheveled bookshelf, the bulletin board he's tacked notes to, and the clothes strewn over the floor. He couldn't get her out of them fast enough. 

     Being in her room, alone, knowing they didn't have to worry about interruptions had started the night off well. The moment he'd crawled through the window, pulled his mask off and started talking about the armed robbery he stopped on the way over had led to her smiling, listening intently, kissing him when he got so into his story he forgot to take a breath. Then she'd kissed him a little more urgently.

     It's real. It happened. He's not trapped. 

     "Your room." It comes out quieter than he wants. Too shaky, too vulnerable. "With you."

     Clearing his throat, he turns back to meet her gaze but the worry he finds there rips a hole in his chest. Worrying her has never been something he wants. He's always tried to avoid it and yet, he always seems to be doing it.

     He doesn't notice his hands fisted in the blanket until she reaches to gently tug one free. Peter lives in the moment his heart calms, the second it begins to slow and beat steadier. MJ presses their fingers against her ribs, then flattens her palm over the back of his hand to hold him in place. 

     The heat of her skin draws his eyes down. He's not fighting, he's not being tackled or pinned or almost killed. Instead, the tips of his fingers are on MJ and she's the one in front of him. She's the one pinning him, grounding him through touch. It's her.

     "You're right here with me." The lump in his throat shifts. He doesn't tell her about the nightmare, the fear tangling his thoughts. 

     He can't bring himself to speak. His palm slides up her side and around to her back. On autopilot, Peter leans up to press his mouth to the corner of hers and she says nothing in return. The words aren't needed.

     She doesn't seem to mind that he's a mess of tears, sweat and fear. If anything, he's being tugged closer. Her arms find their way around him as his do the same, seeking comfort only she provides. He buries his face against her neck, clinging to her. His nights are sometimes hell - filled with images he wants to erase - but holding her in the moments his heartbeat slows feels like heaven. 

     And that's enough to bring him back.

     "MJ," Peter's voice cracks and he doesn't try to hide it. He doesn't need to be strong here. "You're good at this now."

     "Shut up and cuddle me." 

     "Okay." His lips press to her neck, then her shoulder and when her fingers slide through his damp hair, Peter's convinced he could fall asleep just like this. Sitting in the middle of her bed with her legs straddling his thighs and leaning into her, tired and still trembling, he could slip into sleep easily. 

     Time passes silently, punctuated by the sounds of the street below and the distant buzzing he's learned comes from the old refrigerator in the kitchen. It's almost comforting, almost a lullaby that has him drifting as she hugs him tighter. 

     However, he breathes deep and peels his eyes open. He isn't ready to fall back into the land of dreams or nightmares. It's a risk he doesn't want to take. He'd rather stay awake, alert enough to feel the steady stroke of her fingers against his scalp, to hear her soft inhale when he slides his cheek over her collarbone. 

     "You a cat now?" Her voice is soft, teasing and he responds by doing it again, and again, until she's laughing and tugging the strands of hair currently in her hand. "Stop it, you're all sweaty."

     Before he can apologize, MJ slides off him. He doesn't want her to go. She's standing and lifting a shirt from the floor within seconds while he's still perched in the same position, one hand reaching for her as if that will be the thing that pulls her back to him. But it doesn't. He knew it wouldn't. When Michelle decides to do something, it's very rare he can convince her not to do the thing.

     It's almost four in the morning. He's about to ask why she's up and not still in his lap but the words never find their way out. Peter's brain short circuits around the time she puts one hand on her hip and runs the other through her curls.

     "You just going to sit there or do you plan to join me?"

     "What are we doing?" He must have missed something. If they made plans for four o'clock in the morning, Peter wasn't aware of it.

     "Showering. Let's go."

     "Wha...together?"

     "Come on, boy hero. I'll wash your hair." He's still trying to piece together how they went from nightmares to showers as he stumbles after her. 

     The ache that burned through his chest is mostly gone, more of a twinge when he reaches for her hand. It lessens as her fingers lock with his. The crushing weight, the inability to breathe, the shaking, it all fades with every step closer to the bathroom.

     They don't have to speak in hushed whispers, or tiptoe. They're alone. Peter still shuts the door behind them, locking it as MJ gets the water ready. It's cute the way she furrows her brow to concentrate on getting the right temperature. 

     When she smiles at him, he's half convinced he might be dreaming again. Perhaps he did fall asleep in her arms. He knows it's real when she tugs him beneath the spray and hugs him close.  
 _____________________________

     "This is the first time I've really seen your living room." It probably is, she hasn't given him a tour. It never crossed her mind.  

     Michelle spends the majority of her hours at home in her bedroom with a book or binging shows on her laptop. There's never been a need to show him. There was never a need to show anyone since Peter's the first to come over. Her first real friend, her first boyfriend...first everything.

     "It's not much."

     "It's great."

     "It's not." The old plaid couch creaks when Peter sits and she knows for a fact that it's not comfortable. She's not one to be embarrassed of much but when his eyes catch on the empty bottles sitting atop the coffee table, it blooms in her chest. It's hot and twisting, flaming her ears and cheeks. "Sorry about the mess, I haven't had a lot of time to-"

     "MJ, stop." 

     "My dad likes expensive scotch more than he likes me. This is his area, my room is mine." It doesn't hurt to say it anymore. She's been numb to her father's lack of parenting skills for awhile but the need for Peter to understand burns in her throat.

     Seconds tick by, his eyes locked on hers and then he offers his hand. A soft beacon of understanding in the harsh reality of her home. As soon as she lets him slide his fingers through hers and squeeze, she's being tugged down next to him on the couch.

     "I like your room." The words are simple but the meaning significant. "I like your living room too. MJ, I love every part of you and you don't have to hide things or be embarrassed. Not with me."

     "I've just never had anyone over or told anyone about this stuff." Feels right to tell the boy she just spent the last half hour hugging in her shower. 

     "I've been coming over for months."

     "Other than you." A squeal leaves her lips when he tackles her. "Hey!"

     There was a time she would have pushed him off, but not anymore. Now she's pulling him closer every chance she gets and trying not to overthink just how gone she is for him. It takes Michelle less than five seconds to shift beneath him and draw him closer.

     The dampness of her hair seeps through the shirt she's wearing, the annoying tick of the clock hanging crooked above the television has her wanting to be back in her bedroom and yet the moment his eyes crinkle with a smile, everything fades. The noise becomes a hum, the cool wet patches of her shirt suddenly don't bother her. 

     "Thank you," she says, reaching up to stroke her thumb over his cheek. It'd be a lie to say she doesn't love the way he settles over her as if this is what they've always done. No hesitations, just the familiar press of his body against hers.

     "For what?" 

     "For not saying the bullshit line about how it's probably not true or how he loves me in his own way." 

     "I don't know him so I can't say that but I know you." He does. In every way. "You open up to me, you stay just a little guarded to everyone else. So if you tell me something about your dad or anything personal then I know it's true. Or it's what you know to be true and-"

     "And I need you to shut up and kiss me now."

     "It's rude to interrupt, ya know." 

     "Peter."

     "Michelle." Warm lips press against her own, soft and quick. "MJ, I think I really like your couch." 

     It's not funny, not in the least but she's laughing anyway. Maybe it's the spring digging into the middle of her back or the way he smiles so wide as his nose knocks into hers. Maybe she's just a little tired when he kisses her again. This time, it's more than a peck.

     It's more like an assault on her senses. The scent of her shampoo and body wash on his skin, the taste of mint toothpaste when he slips his tongue between her lips, the feel of one hand sliding beneath her shirt.  _His shirt?_  Someone's fucking shirt, she doesn't remember.

     This is definitely better than the tossing and moaning she woke up to, it's better than hearing him cry out in agony. He's attentive, that's something she's noticed when he kisses her. His hands never stay still. He pays attention, knows when to take a breath and dive back in, knows when to pull back and look at her. 

     Making out with him wasn't in the original plan but she wraps her arms around his neck and gently nips at his mouth. The plan was never set in stone anyway. 

     He's panting by the time his forehead drops to hers, maybe she's panting a little too. 

     "Yeah, I think this couch is great."

     "If you don't shut up about this couch, I'll make you sleep on it every time you crawl through my window." She tries to be stern, tries to narrow her eyes and be serious but the smile breaks through. It's clear she's losing this round.

     "You'd miss me too much."

     "I'd have the blanket to myself and be able to stretch out."

     "Ouch." They both know she would end up on the couch with him before daylight. "Thanks for staying up with me."

     "Always." 

     "I meant it when I said you're really good at calming me down. You used to say you didn't know how, that you weren't very good at it but you are."

     "Peter, it's way too late or early or whatever to have a deep conversation about my social skills." It'll be daylight soon and she can't do heavy conversations when she's barely had any sleep. 

     The circles under his eyes say everything he doesn't. Despite the ache in her lower back from the lumpy cushions, Michelle slides her fingers through his hair and coaxes him down until he's stretched out against her. He's heavy, half on her and half off but the weight is welcome and comforting; a reminder that she isn't alone. 

     Hopefully, it's a reminder to him as well. With his face buried in her neck, he grows still the moment she presses her lips to his hair. Her eyes drift shut, his breathing evens out while her fingers trace patterns over his back and this time there are no nightmares. 

     The next time her eyes open, it's to the sound of the front door unlocking and the sun being too bright. She doesn't shove Peter off, she doesn't run to her room but her heart races. The clink of keys hitting the ceramic bowl wakes her sleeping boyfriend. 

     "Chelle?" Michelle has never wanted to be dusted again till this moment. "What the hell is this?"

     Peter has the decency to blush when he lifts his face from her chest. He scrambles off of her, guilt written all over him. With a quick roll of her eyes, she slowly sits up and stretches.

     "Hey, thought you wouldn't be home till ten today?" 

     "It is ten." They're  _so_ late for school. "Care to explain the boy?"

     "Hi. I'm Peter Parker, I -"

     "Care to explain why you already smell like a distillery midmorning on a weekday?" It's out before she can stop it and she watches from the edge of the couch as her father shifts, as his eyebrows furrow and face pinches tight. 

     "You have ten minutes to get him out of here."

     "Twenty minutes. We have to get dressed."

     "Michelle." She knows that tone, the one that says he's on edge and fighting to keep his cool. She shrugs and reaches for Peter's hand. "Fifteen and I want you both gone."

     "This is Peter, by the way. The one I told you about." She's not ashamed, never could be so she holds her head high as Peter ducks his. 

     It's quiet as she pulls him to her room but the moment she closes the door, he turns to face her, eyes wide. She wishes they'd had more time on the couch, more time to wake slowly and enjoy it.

     "Is he mad? He didn't seem that mad but I don't know him and are you in trouble? Do I need to -"

     "He's indifferent. I already told him I have a boyfriend who stays over when he isn't around."

     "You...told him?" 

     "It didn't go so well at first." She pulls her shirt over her head and steps toward the closet. "Get dressed. We have to be out of here unless you do want to see him heated."

     "I...what is happening?"

     "We're getting ready for school. We are very late. My dad is a functional drunk at least half of every week, doesn't really do the father thing, knows you exist and we really need to get going, Pete."

     "Okay." 

     They're dressed and ready in five minutes, out the door in twelve and Michelle slips her hand into Peter's as she gives her dad a little wave. It went better than she ever expected, probably due to the fact they already fought about Peter being over when he's not around. 

     "Everyone at school is going to talk when we both show up this late." He's right. 

     "Eh, let 'em." She leans over to press a kiss to his cheek as they walk, stumbling a few steps at the contact. "You should have seen your face when you realized my father caught you using me as a pillow."

     "Don't."

     "Adorable." 

     "MJ, shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took me forever to update. I was really ill for 2 weeks, then had to catch up on craft fair stuff and work.


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